


The Wayfinder

by Rogue_Mando



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 53,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22265935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Mando/pseuds/Rogue_Mando
Summary: "The Wayfinder shall never return to this Earth. Forever destined to be lost among the Stars. Watch, and know the hope you have given.”What would happen if the Titan Kronos was not truly defeated? What if he swore vengeance on the one who wronged him and traveled back in time to make sure that it was done?A story of a Demigod lost in the Chaos we call the Star Wars Galaxy from a perspective of a PJO buff and Star Wars lover.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	1. Vengeance Awry

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, kinda had this pipe dream and that's why I'm posting it at 4 AM. Damn thing wouldn't let me sleep until i got at least the first chapter done. I hope you guys like it as much as I think I'm going to enjoy writing it!
> 
> PSA: I own neither Star Wars or Percy Jackson, just playing in their sandbox.

_‘I don’t have much time left, but I will have my vengeance. The opportunity is right in front of me, but I feel my life force slipping through my fingers… Lukas Benjamin Castellan, I swear, by the primordials above and the rivers below, that if it weren’t for that Jackson brat humiliating me time and again I would have my vengeance on you for your betrayal - but I survived and you already paid your price in blood. Your debt is paid, but Jackson… Jackson must die.’_ Thunder roars and the Earth shakes at the proclamation, I feel my life force tether to the oath. I shall not die until this oath is seen through, _‘as the mortals would say, σκατα. I need to act quickly if I fade before the oath is carried out…’_ I shudder involuntarily, dread squeezing my barely formed lungs.

Luke carried out his little rebellion but he was too late, my essence was already too concentrated for a mere dagger to end me so easily. Jackson and Chase though... they died too easily. When my body reformed, their mortal husks could not withstand the power of my divine form. _‘Jackson deserves this fate for passing the knife to my… dearly departed host,’_ the sneer on my lips changes to a smirk as I resign myself to climbing the stairs of the mortal residence building, snarling all the way. If it weren’t for meddling children I would have teleported directly to the child’s home but the amount of energy released would immediately alert Poseidon to my presence - this can not be allowed.

I kick down the door to the disgusting dwelling, the _apartment_ reeks of cheap alcohol and heavy smoke.

“Who the hell are- UGH!” With a wave of my hand, the filthy mortal crumbles to ash. This is what the Jackson boy was raised in? No, this is what Jackson overcame.

And that infuriates me more. The child is young, of that, I am sure. I spent centuries in Tartarus but at least I did not grow in a pigsty, the boy would have joined me if his stepfather was any indication, his mother saved him in that regard but still, this child has spent his life in suffering. Perhaps…

Troubled, I take ten slow, even steps to where I sense the boy sleeping. I open the door with a slow, quiet movement. The small, helpless shape on the bed stirs slightly at the sound of the ungreased door.

“Mommy?” The young voice calls from the bed in a small, squeaky voice, “Mommy, is that you?”

I hesitate as the boy turns over, the bright green eyes of my son meeting mine and widening in shock, “who- who are you?” he moves to the other side of his bed slowly like a wild animal is in the room with him.

“I am Kronos, and I am your grandfather, my child,” the boy’s eyes widen further but he squirms out from under the sheets and wraps himself around my legs.

“Grandpa! Where were you?” the boy looks up at me with his wide green eyes, I push him away and take a knee before him.

“I was away, it took me a long time to find you,” _‘what’s happening to me?’_ My thoughts are interrupted by the boy’s small arms around my neck.

“Are you going to stay, grandpa? Mommy said Daddy got lost at sea and that’s why we have to live with Smelly Gabe,” the innocence in his eyes is almost overwhelming but the way he said the man’s name... the boy knows hate and pain. Oh if I could take him as my own heir! How delicious it would be to use this child as my vengeance against my traitorous children, damn that oath! I have to finish this through, but perhaps I can give him a small form of Mercy...

“I cannot, my child. But I can take you away from this place,” the boy nods his head rapidly but then stops as he cocks his head to the side.

“Can Mommy come too?”

“I’ll come back for her, will that be alright?” 

“Yes, Grandpa. Can we go now? I don’t like it here, it’s too smelly…” I quite agree with him, but there’s one thing I must do. I place my hand on the boy’s forehead and close my eyes, channeling my considerably weakened powers into my hand.

“Perseus Jackson, I name thee my heir. Should I fade, you shall take the lordship of Time. So I say, so it must be.”

A nimbus of golden light surrounds us until it explodes outward, I place my hand on the boy’s shoulder and we disappear in the space of a single second but in that second something I can’t explain happens… the room flashes a bright green.

We land next to the sea of darkness, my Grandfather. Chaos himself. I feel the pull on my immortal soul but Perseus’ reaction is as unexpected as it is queer, the boy turned to face the void as if it was simply the sea itself.

“What is it?”

“Chaos, my child. This is where we shall go, a new beginning awaits us here. Come to me, child. This will not be pleasant, but it will be over quickly,” I look at the eternal darkness with more than a little bit of terror.

The boy climbs into my arms, trusting I know what’s best for him.

‘ _Oh, my child, if you only knew what was about to happen you would run screaming just as I wish to. No one has willingly entered the eternal darkness and yet here we stand. And with this final step, my oath shall be fulfilled, my vengeance complete.’_

With that last thought, I step off the edge of the pit into the unknown. I feel myself fall for all of five seconds before pain, pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt tears through my body and into my very soul.

**“Aberration, what have you done?”** the void calls out to me, the pain intensifies with the rage of the pit, **“You dare damn a child to this? If your presence did not demand even my attention, or if another had not called on my name to protect this very child, I would have shredded the boy’s very essence without thought. You would have condemned an innocent to the eternal suffering of** **_nothing_ ** **?”**

“No, grandfather. I did not know that you would do such a thing, I thought his death would be painless, he would not know the loss of a mother nor the pain of an abandoned father and, most shamefully, the betrayal of his grandfather. He is my heir and he is the heir of the sea yet he remains mortal, if my oath could have been ignored so easily I would have left him to live in peace and came here myself.”

**“You utter fool, your oath was to take vengeance upon Lukas Benjamin Castellan, you swore an oath already fulfilled. You damned my descendant for naught!”**

The pain, the squeezing, tearing, pulling sensations magnify to a level I never knew possible but it’s nothing compared to that heart-shattering instant. I could have left the boy, I _should_ have left him but now? 

I scream my rage to the silence of the void, **“I see you understand, Aberration. Perhaps you also understand why it is that none come to me. If it is any consolation, the boy is safe. I was unable to return him to his home due to the sheer ineptitude of you being in this timeline and willingly dying, Aberration, while the one true to this time struggles to cling to life. This time is closed to him, anytime you have - no… anytime you have and shall ever live in, is closed to him. I cannot send him to the past nor can I send him to the future…**

**“You meddled with the very thing you were tasked to guard. The body of your past shall live for another ten thousand millennia, he is destined to rise and fall all the while living those years in a state of non-existence or less than half a life. He that is you shall rise thrice, and thrice alone in the span of ten billion years. In his last ascension, he shall crawl to me once more when time claims the Earth. By then, the mercy of the void will be preferable to living. For the sun shall overtake the Earth and life will be no more.”**

My heart nearly stops at that news, ‘ _the sun shall consume the Earth? It can’t be possible. It simply cannot… but if it is? I doomed the boy to the void for my foolishness.’_

**“Be still, my grandchild.”** The voice says in a remarkably calm tone, **“You think this is the only world I made habitable amongst the innumerable stars? The cosmos are eternally expanding, yet you are under the delusion that I stopped at one planet? No, this planet is still in her infancy, oh Lord of Time. This planet does not even hold the honor of being the first world I gave the gift of life to.”**

My mind stops as I process this, the pain in my body, mind, and soul forgotten as sheer hope courses through me, _‘You sent him away?’_

**“Yes, to a time and a world born long before this one. The light from the stars of their galaxy will not reach this world until this world rejoins the cycle of life. They have long discovered how to traverse the Cosmos, but the Wayfinder shall never return to this Earth. Forever destined to be lost among the Stars. Watch, and know the hope you have given.”**

I give into the pain as visions flash through my mind.

War.

Turmoil.

Loss.

An army of strange grey nonmen marching toward orbs of purple, firearms flashing red as the grey-men look to be struck by lightning.

Men with the same faces armored in white plating spreading through the stars, subjugating worlds in the name of democracy. Men and women with strange swords of light slaughtering men and women by the thousands.

Fear.

Fire.

Pain.

Ships sailing the stars that are larger than cities clash against one another in the realm of the sun and stars, smaller ships screaming while the larger ships attack with rays of light. A planet with no sea but glowing with the luminescence of the moon herself. 

One of the starships breaking in half, crashing to the planet’s surface.

Battles over thousands of worlds.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Destruction.

The men and women with swords of light being fired on by their own men.

The white armored soldiers marching in perfect formation behind a man in black toward the largest structure I’ve ever seen. 

Devastation.

Tens of Thousands slaughtered in minutes across the stars. One by one, the wielders of the blades fall to blue rays of light.

Hate.

Rage.

Desperation.

The Black Cloaked man stands on a platform in his lover’s embrace. A man garbed in white and brown stands in the door of the silver ship, the man armored in black raises his hand. His lover crumples to the ground, unconscious.

_“I will do what I must."_

Cerulean blades slam into each other in a nimbus of light. The duel raging over the rivers of fire is as intense as the heat below the combatants, the skills of each warrior forged by war and sharpened by experience.

The battle moves over the river itself. The man in black faces off against the man in white, both with the swords of light held ready while across the river from the other.

_“I have failed you, Anakin. I have failed you.”_

Suffering.

The man in black falls onto the platform with the man in white, they cross blades one, twice, thrice and the man in white vaults to the bank of ash. The two face off once more, the man in black leaps over the man in white. With a scream of agony, the man in black is relieved of his sword, his arms, and his legs in one single motion from the man in white.

_“You were the chosen one!”_ I look down at the man in black, his eyes now pulsing a sickly yellow, ringed by red fire, _“Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!”_

The man in black bursts into flame as the man in white averts his eyes. He takes the dying man’s sword, walking away from the charred husk that was once a man.

_“There he is! Still alive…”_ a man, more decrepit than Ahklys herself, kneels beside the living corpse. Two men in white armor take the man away as my perspective splits.

The living corpse’s lover screaming while delivering her child to life. The living corpse being tortured yet healed. 

He gains new limbs of metal, screaming in agony while his lover’s wails create a haunting harmony. I feel myself frown. The man… he’s leaching off her life energy to save himself.

I reach out as if I could save the woman from what’s happening to her but it’s in vain. 

The man in black is now garbed in armor. A mask comes down from the ceiling, his heart stops as the mask locks into place. A strange whir of machinery activates followed by the ominous hiss of breathing regulated by the same machines. With the exhale, the man’s heart restarts but her’s is not to beat again.

The woman in labor took her son and daughter in her arms moments before the man in black’s helmet sealed shut.

“ _Luke… Leia…”_

She whispered the words even as the ominous _Hoooh-Burr_ began. 

“ _Lord Vader…”_

Years slip by in the span of a breath. The man in black hunting down his brethren, the man in white watching over the son of this _Vader._ The daughter being raised a princess of an entire Planet.

A moon made of metal appears in my sight. A city destroyed in a heartbeat, a base of operations annihilated in a flash of green and a ball of fire, a planet shattered in the blink of an eye. 

_‘How is this possible…’_

The moon erupts in a ball of fire, the image of a man with a green helmet with a visor in the shape of the cross with armor covered by a cape. The man stands proud with a rifle in his hands at the ready at the side of Vader.

My vision shifts to a man in similar armor colored in grey, black, and navy blue. He stands radiating power amongst others armored similarly to him, a sword of pure darkness in his hand and a firearm in the other standing against the sword wielders and then this Lord Vader. 

**“See, and know what your grandchild shall change, Lord Kronos. He shall change the fate of an entire Galaxy, know and be proud - for he shall be the greatest warrior his new galaxy will ever know.”**

“Thank you, grandfather.”

There are no more words spoken. My sight darkens and I know no more.

**_Atlantis…_ **

**_With Poseidon…_ **

**_Earlier…_ **

“Beloved, what is wrong?” Amphitrite’s bare body presses against my back while my eyebrows crunch together as I try to figure out what’s wrong.

“I don’t know…” I roll over to face my wife, “I have a feeling that something is going to go terribly wrong my lo-” I jerk upright and disappear in a burst of seawater.

_‘Percy, Sally, something’s wrong. Percy, I can barely feel him now. My boy, what has happened to you?’_

My body resolidifies in their apartment, I can’t feel Sally anywhere nearby but I do feel much worse. 

A presence that I haven’t felt in millennia.

Rage boils in me as I finally place the ancient power, _‘No, he’s in Tartarus, we cut him into_ hundreds _of pieces. He shouldn’t be able to reform for another century yet!’_

I don’t even have to open Percy’s door, it’s already been done. I watch in horror as my darling boy takes the hand of the one Titan I prayed I would never see again, my father.

Without thinking I raise my hand out to my son, _‘You are the Son of the Seas, water heeds your command. I grant you powers any natural-born son of mine is entitled to. The power of the sea and earth resides in you, be safe, my Son. May Chaos watch over you,’_ the though takes less than a fraction of a second to pass through my mind as my eyes meet my sons for the first time in years - only for him to disappear with the last syllable I think.

With relief, I see a blue aura surround him before receding into his eyes, then the fury of the storm ignites within me. I reach out with my senses to find my son, I feel him but just barely… 

‘ _No… he couldn’t be there, even Kronos couldn’t be that - no…’_ the connection I have with Percy snaps like old twine, ‘ _no… no… no, no, no, NO! He didn’t…’_

**“He did. Your son is safe but he cannot be returned to you, descendant.”**

The voice of the legion rings through my mind like a gong, the voice of eternity confirming my worst fears.

I break down on the spot.

I bury my face in the carpet that reeks of stale beer, cigar smoke, and faintly of piss but I ignore all of that as I let myself slip into the haze of despair. 

_‘My son is dead…’_

“Poseidon?” A startled, scared voice calls from behind me, I stand up with my fist in slamming into the carpet in my rage.

“He’s gone, Sally,” I whisper in a hoarse voice.

“Who’s gone?” Her voice is full of the terror I still feel in my chest.

“Our son, father took him,” I meet Sally’s eyes streaming tears.

“Your father? Kronos? But how is that possible?”

“It shouldn’t be but it happened all the same, Sally… Percy’s gone.”

“He’s dead?” Her voice trembles with the pain only a mother losing her son can feel.

“No, he’s not dead, that much I know,” the tears are still streaking down my face.

“Then where is he!?” She screams at me.

**“A place far away in a time long passed. He had a good life, I am sorry I could not bring him back to you Mrs. Jackson.”**

She whirls around, hunting for the voice.

“Sally, you won’t find him. That was Chaos himself, he hasn’t spoken since before the Primordials rose. If he says Percy’s gone, he’s never coming back to us.”

She falls to her knees while I remain standing. “The council must be informed,” I place my hand on her shoulder for the briefest second. She says nothing while tears stream down her face.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper while disappearing with the smell of the sea, I never hear the sobs only a mother who lost her child can give.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good News!  
> To all my peeps coming from ffn this story can be found there too! This weekend I plan on uploading the rest of my stories over there as well excluding one or two as well as posting the new chapters there around a week after I post them here, this site was my first love and always will be but there is a depressing lack of good Star Wars PJO content out there and if I can make someone happy even for a few minutes it's worth it.


	2. Fas Invictus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ni kar’tayl gai sa’ad, Perseus. Par aliit ori’shya tal’din.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own neither Star Wars nor Percy Jackson and the Olympians and any subsidiary companies.

Prophecy. A truly fickle mistress. For centuries the sons of Rome stood watch for the first signs of the Prophecy of Seven dawning. The watchers stood to gain the power of the world, the fame of being part of this ancient prophecy - others prayed it would never come to pass.

Across the Stars, the Jedi Order waited for the One. The One who would bring ultimate balance to the Force but they were not perfect. They thought the One would destroy the dark side of the Force, yet to bring balance light and dark must both sit on the razor’s edge. The Jedi may have understood what the Romans could not, that a prophecy would come to pass or it would not and worrying over that which you can not control is pointless, but it did not save them from their own arrogance. Just as the Romans and Greeks never learned that lesson and nearly lost everything in turn.

Kronos, in his moment of utter foolishness, fell into the trap of believing he was above Prophecy. He kidnapped the one who would be his downfall, Percy Jackson - the son of Poseidon, and doomed himself to a life of half-consciousness and pain. Without Perseus Jackson, the war accelerated to the point of catastrophe. Luke Castellan stole Zeus’ master bolt the same as he would in another time, another life as it were, but without the son of Poseidon to take the blame for his actions Luke was discovered in a matter of days. Before the gods could find him he disappeared along with his longtime friend Annabeth Chase, the rest of the camp did not know what happened when the two of them disappeared but did not find it terribly odd until the bolt was recovered from Hermes’ cabin a handful of hours later. 

The Titan War had just been sparked.

The next summer, Luke - desperate to gain the upper hand in this war of attrition - went against his own beliefs and poisoned his old friend Thalia’s tree in an attempt to break down the barriers of Camp-Halfblood, justifying this action to himself by telling himself it was necessary. Panicking, Chiron gave Clarisse La Rue the task of finding the Golden Fleece to save the camp and honor Thalia’s sacrifice, thanking the gods for the Satyr Grover finding a way to send him an Iris message with information the Fleece was found.

Clarisse succeeded, but the cost was high.

Clarisse returned to camp with the lost Sword of Mars in one hand and the Golden Fleece in the other, but the two she left the camp with on her quest did not return with her but Thalia Grace, the Daughter of Zeus, had returned.

_ ‘A Half-Blood of the Eldest Gods…’ _

Six months later and the date is December 22, 2007. Thalia Grace’s Birthday. 

_ ‘Shall Reach Sixteen Against the Odds…’ _

The final battle of the war wasn’t fought on Olympus. No, it was fought atop mount Tamalpais and in the heart of Orthys. Luke had been blessed with Styx’s curse a month previously, Kronos was nearly ready to rise. And the prophecy was nearly fulfilled.

Knowing that Thalia was going to be the child of prophecy, the Greeks marched in force to California, set on destroying the Council of the Titans and praying it would be enough to stop the onslaught. For months, this war had been costly on both sides but while the monsters would reform and come back to haunt the demigods, the demigods would simply go to the underworld, never to fight again.

Camp Half-Blood had enough: enough of the deaths of their friends, enough of the attacks, enough was enough.

Thus, on that December day, a horde of teenagers stared down the mountain with their swords clutched in their hands, shields hanging at their sides, and rage burning in their eyes. The laughably small force marched forward, intent on taking as many monsters with them as they could all while knowing that they probably wouldn’t leave here today.

_ ‘And see the world in endless sleep…’ _

Thalia Grace, Bianca Di Angelo, and Clarisse La Rue slipping into the council chambers, undetected thanks to Bianca’s power over shadows, as the battle sparked.

The army of monsters nearly overran the Greeks with the first wave but an unexpected war horn called out over the battlefield, reinforcements had arrived in the form of two hundred enraged teenagers dressed in purple shirts and golden armor. The Greeks had no idea who these people were but fought all the harder knowing they may have a chance now, the Romans knew exactly who these people were but joined in the fight all the same.

The Romans joined the Greeks against a common enemy for the first time in millennia. 

Praetors Ramirez-Arellano and Grace bark orders to their troops while running to Chiron’s side to figure out just what the Pluto is going on. He explains as quickly as he can but Jason freezes at the name of his long lost sister.

He steps forward roaring, “Children of Rome! Greece fights enemies at our doors! We defend New Rome, they defend their honor! I don’t care why you fight, the Titans are our enemy! We. Are. Demigods! We stand together!”

“STAND TOGETHER!” The Romans roared to the skies.

“HERE WE STAND!” The Greeks howled.

**_“HERE WE’LL WIN!”_ ** The two camps screamed together. Romans and Greeks charge down the horde of monsters as one, ready to die side by side with those who were once their enemies. The two Praetors aren’t privy to this historic event as they are charging toward the council chambers to help end this fight.

Luke and Annabeth stand together, blades drawn and eyes wild. The friendship perverted by power and lust, lust for power, blood, each other… But Luke is almost completely gone, Kronos’ golden eyes flash from within Luke’s skull as he bats away Thalia’s spear and ducks Clarrise’s sword. Annabeth and Bianca cross daggers, using their bodies to avoid the wheels of bronze light. Bianca holds a blade in each hand while Annabeth holds the blade she’s been fighting with since she was eight years old.

Backbiter slams into Clarisse’s leg, knocking her off her feet with a single blow allowing him to turn his attention back to Thalia Grace. Three well-placed attacks combined with time-manipulation knock the child of Prophecy off her feet, the teenage body hosting the eldest Titan’s mind rises to its feet. The Titan raises his blade, preparing to bring it down on Bianca Di Angelo...

Until a bolt of lightning rips the sword from his hands.

“Luke Castellan,” a boy’s voice rings across the throne room, Kronos looks at the source of the voice, a mere boy, “You  _ dare  _ threaten New Rome?”

“Luke Castellan is dead! I am Kronos, whelp! I shall make your suffering legendary, it would only be polite if I had a name to the face I’ll tear off of you!”

“Saturn then, my question still stands.” Luke visibly jerked at the name, “I am Jason Grace, Praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. And you,” the teen pulls a golden coin from his pocket, tossing it in the air and snatching an Imperial Pilum where it once was, “are finished.”

He thrusts the spear into the sky summoning a bolt of lightning to his command, tossing it at the lord of Time. The Titan dodged the bolt, rolling to the spot where his sword lay. Scooping up the sword he rises back to his feet, preparing to meet the two Romans charging forward. Thalia Grace stands there thunderstruck, her spear lowered and shield hanging at her side. Her little brother, the brother she spent years searching for, is  _ here _ ? 

She snaps to her senses, now is not the time for a reunion!  _ ‘I can’t get stuck in the past, now’s the time to fight and fight like hell.’  _ The chosen one thought even as she charged forward.

The odds may be five on two now but Kronos is still a Titan and Annabeth’s a brilliant strategist but, thank the Gods, she’s a shit tactician. 

Thalia joins the fight against Annabeth, begging her to come back - to leave the mad Titan’s side, to see what Kronos is trying to do to the world. Annabeth refuses to leave her lover’s side, going so far as to cover his back.

Swords crash, spears fly, lightning flashes through the Titan’s throne room. But it’s not enough.

Bianca falls, Clarisse engages Luke but she’s dispatched quickly, Reyna and Thalia are both tied up with the brilliant knife fighting at Annabeth’s command. Leaving Jason to battle the Titan by himself. He holds up well but his sword is torn from his grasp by a move that Luke Castellan would have taught Percy Jackson in another life.

Jason is forced to his knees and Kronos, in his arrogance, raises his sword high above his hand, ready to strike down the son of Jupiter...

Until a golden knife flips end over end toward a spot under Luke’s raised arm, sinking to the hilt in Luke’s armpit. Luke doesn’t even make a sound of pain, allowing his sword to fall from his limp fingers to a place behind him as he feebly reaches for the Death Sentence protruding from his side.

_ ‘Hero’s Soul Cursed Blade Shall Reap…’ _

Annabeth screams as her lover falls forward, limp. The man was dead before he ever saw the flagstones rushing up to meet him.

Annabeth makes it to her lover’s side, tearing the knife from his armpit before rolling his body over. She shakes him desperately trying to get him to wake up, but it’s in vain. The knife clatters to the floor at the feet of a lanky blonde who stepped out of the shadows.

_ “Octavian?”  _ Jason Grace gasps as the Augur of New Rome steps into the chamber, his voice laced in disbelief.

“Yes, Praetor,” Octavian looks to the body of the man he slew, the Titan he brought down, with a grim face, “Who was he?”

“MY HUSBAND, CUR!” 

Annabeth Chase’s voice rings through the throne room with a second booming over it.

Rhea, the Queen of the Titans, had possessed Annabeth Chase. Annabeth had taken the Curse of Achilles as well, her father giving his blessing. The ritual would allow the queen to return along with her husband and after millennia in Tartarus, the gentle Queen was gone - replaced with a conqueress bent on revenge. 

But there was one issue.

Annabeth Chase had chosen Luke Castellan as her mortal point, there was no one point on her body anchoring her to the mortal world. Her whole being was held in Luke Castellan’s hands and she proved that to him right there on the banks of the Styx - giving herself to him in mind, body, and soul.

But without him, she lost the protection the curse gave her.

Rhea lunges faster than a striking snake, her eyes glowing silver with the Celestial Bronze blade raised to cut Octavian’s throat.

_ ‘A final choice shall end  _ their  _ days, Olympus to Preserve or Raze…’ _

Prophecy is a fickle mistress.

A silver arrow slams into Annabeth’s side, punching through her unarmed flank and lacerating her heart in the blink of an eye.

The demigod who could have been Olympus’ greatest hero crumples to the floor, dead.

“Thanks, Zhang,” the gangly blonde calls out to the archer in the doorway. The Chinese boy simply nods while staring at the fallen pair with his bow in his hand with an arrow on the string. The bodies pulse with golden light, forcing us to look away. When we look back at the spot the bodies laid, they both had disappeared.

The Seven stand together in the Titan’s throne room, unnerved that the bodies disappeared without a trace.

_ ‘Seven half-bloods shall answer the call…’ _

The Grace siblings finally look at each other, taking the other in their arms while hugging each other to themselves trying to memorize their sibling as fast as possible. They speak in hushed whispers while we walk out of the Black Throne room.

The demigod armies stand with campers from each camp talking, laughing, crying in each other's arms, the few that think the other demigods can’t see them in their dark corners. 

They thought they had won but their victory was pyrrhic at best, then the Earth fell away under their very feet.

**“Make Merry, Demigods - for your war has just begun.”**

The mountain explodes beneath the Demigod army’s feet. But the Seven fall through the earth like a stone. Time warps around the Seven, stretching mere seconds into hours or hours into seconds. None of the Seven know. The Seven find themselves in a temple, the bright blue of the sky in stark contrast to the corpses lying side by side on an altar of Earth.

Thalia’s best friends reduced to husks of their former selves.

**“Welcome, demigods, welcome!”** The sickly sweet voice rings around the temple, even as a woman rises in front of the altar.

Octavian turns sheet white, “Gaia…”

**“Indeed, little one. I am her. I hope I did not… spoil your moment of triumph hmm? Oh? Oh my, I must apologize but my eldest son had to get his flair for the dramatic from somewhere, did he not?”** The woman smiles a predator’s smile at the Seven standing before her.

The Seven prepare to fight as the scent of the sea intensifies around us. “Grandmother, I wish to speak with you.”

Poseidon calls out to the deity of Earth.

The Earth mother looks at her grandson appraisingly before nodding her head, her bright emerald eyes boring into Poseidon’s. He lays a hand on her shoulder and they reappear under immense pressure, but neither of them feels anything other than comfortable.

“Grandmother,” Poseidon says in a neutral tone.

**“Poseidon, you certainly aren’t as… lively as Kronos described you to be. Tell me, child, what has upset you so?”**

“Kronos kidnapped my son, Perseus. It destroyed his mother and it destroyed me, he was lost to the Chaos. Why did he do that?” The sea god sounds more like a confused child than a member of the big three,

Gaia sighed and looked into her grandson’s eyes,  **“Because he killed him once and wouldn’t allow it again.”**

“He changed the course of Time.” It wasn’t a question, “Kill me, grandmother... I swore to protect him and I failed, I won’t fail him again.”

Gaia nods, “as you wish,” she raises her hand and clenches her fist in one smooth motion.

_ ‘To Storm or Fire, the World Must Fall…’ _

The light leaves Poseidon’s eyes as the Lord of the Sea fades.

The sea howls in outrage at the murderer of her master. The Earth mother was overwhelmed by the roaring of the sea, the power of the depths crushing her. Pontus reigns in his kingdom for the first time since his brother was slain by the Titans.

But it was too late for the Earth mother who was forced to return to her slumber to save her life, in the end - Poseidon had taken his revenge for his son, it was -

_ ‘An oath to keep with final breath…’ _

Below the realms of the dead and the damned, the prisoners of Tartarus battled toward Thanatos’ doors. The doors that only show themselves once every ten thousand years, a horde clambering to the doors to get free from their horror even if it’s only for the briefest time.

_ ‘And Foes bear arms to the Doors of Death…’ _

A mighty roar rings over the Tartarian plain, silencing the screams and shouts of the monsters clambering to the doors. A Drakon charges into the field with a giant on her back - Damasen has come for freedom.

The giant and drakon charge toward the Doors as fast as they can but before they can reach them, they vanished. Watching their hopes vanish into smoke the monsters, Titans, Giants, and damned all wailed in unison not wanting to believe that some of them - most of them - would never be free again.

Eventually, the Seven make their way back home to their camps, to their homes, or to their loved ones. Thalia Grace reconnected with her brother and lived her life with her long-time friend and lover Bianca Di Angelo, dying in her lover’s arms at the ripe age of ninety-five - a child of prophecy doing the impossible by daring to live. When she made it to the Underworld she found that the Isles of the Blest was what awaited her, her ancient memories coming back to her in a flash. Memories of a common Greek woman that managed to save her village with a sword belonging to a fallen demi-god, she died after a simple life but a life worth living. Another life of luxury, a life of a princess and soon the life of a Queen who controlled the largest empire history had ever known. Finally, the memories of a life well spent as the Princess of Olympus.

Jason Grace and Reyna Ramirez-Arellano realized their feelings for each other after the event of that fateful day. The pair went onto be Praetors of New Rome until they were both eighteen and started at New Rome college together, Greeks being a common sight in the school ever since the day the Romans call  _ dies irae,  _ the Day of Wrath. Half of New Rome’s forces fell that day, along with most of Camp Half-Blood’s but they were not trained as soldiers, they were trained as warriors. While New Rome lost half of their men and women, Camp Half-Blood had only brought fifty men and twenty women to the fight and lost forty to the battle. The camps couldn’t afford to fight amongst themselves, they had already lost too many demigods.

Clarisse La Rue and Frank Zhang went on a quest with Octavian to the old world. There they ran into a boy going by the name of Magnus Chase in a bar in Stockholm, but that’s a story for another day.

But Perseus Jackson… A Long Time Ago, In a Galaxy Far, Far Away found himself as a terrified three-year-old standing in the middle of a clearing with pretty lights flying over his head while men in armor and a robot shoot at each other with strange guns.

**_With Pre-Vizsla…_ **

“Jorr! Don’t let Fett getaway! I’ll get the boy!”

Activating my jetpack, I fly toward the child as fast as I can wondering how by the Ancestors the child just  _ appeared  _ here.

**_Flashback…_ **

“Pruudi T’ad, o’r taap,” Maz Tenau baritone reported over the coms. (Shadow one, in position)

“Pruudi Ehn, o’r taap.” Ben Kryze came in next. 

“Pruudi Cuir, o’r taap.” Jorr Kyramud sounded off and... 

“Pruudi Rayshe'a, o’r taap,” came Blake Wren’s bass reverberated over the coms. 

_ “ _ Pruudi Alor, o’r taap. Besbe'trayce nadala - Mando’ade. _ The traitor’s supposed to be in the area but remember: the son of a bantha fucker brought backup. Apparently, one of them’s a droid renown for hunting fucking Jedi in the Wars.”  _ (AN: Shadow leader, in position. Weapons hot - Sons of Mandalore. Italics = Mando’a, parentheses = translations.)

“Elek alor,” four voices chant in unison. (Yes sir!)

Three Death Watch soldiers step out of the shadows moving into a better position around the mouth of the cave, on, two armed with twin WESTAR-35 blaster pistols while the third figure has an odd handle-like shape in one hand and the infamous blaster pistol in the other.

Pre Vizsla and his men crouch in the shadows waiting for Jango Fett and his two partners, a changeling by the name Zam Wesell and a droid designated HK-99, to make his appearance. They didn’t have to wait long.

_ ‘Where in the name of the Manda did that Fett bastard get an HK droid? They were all supposed to have been destroyed in the last Jedi Wars.’  _ Pre Vizsla thinks as he checks his HUD for information on the targets and whatever back corners the galactic holonet has on how to beat the damned assassin droids. Death Watch hates taking bounties but this one was too good to not take up, Fett claimed to be born on Concord Dawn - and with the name of House Fett most would believe it - but he wasn’t. Fett was born on Alderaan to the descendants of the lesser branch of House Fett that fled after being claimed traitors to Mandalore. This branch of House Fett was declared ‘ _ darasuum dar'manda.’  _

Not that the bastard  _ new Mandalorians _ remember this little fact choosing to only remember that he did not get his armor in an honorable manner, as if they know what honor truly is. The protectors of Concord Dawn would know, after all the Fetts still claim to be members of the Protectors and were the ones who claimed the traitor Fetts  _ darasuum dar’manda _ and were the only ones who were allowed to do so.

Jango Fett was banned from our armor, our ways, and our ideals yet he still took up a life of bounty hunting using  _ our  _ armor, claiming  _ our  _ traditions, and striking fear into the hearts of his marks with the reputation of Mandalore while never keeping to our code or our ways. As far as anyone knows, Fett never kept to the Resol’nare or, as far as we know, was never taught it in the first place. If that’s true then he was not educated in our ways, I know he has never defended his clan when they called for arms, I’m not sure if he speaks Mando’a, and - the unforgivable sin - he wears our armor while being a dar’manda and the bastard didn’t even have the backbone to find beskar to use in his suit; the  _ aruetii  _ used Durasteel instead. (Aruetii/traitor)

_ ‘Speaking of…’ _

Jango Fett himself walked out of the cave and into the small clearing with his companions.

“Fett!” I step out of the trees and toward the rogue bounty hunter who now has his WESTAR 34s drawn.

“Vizsla,” his voice is tense as Maz and Ben step out next to me, WESTAR 35s in hand, “what can a simple bounty hunter like me do for Death Watch?” The disgrace of a bounty hunter calls out to us.

“You can start by taking off that armor, Dar’manda,” I snarl behind my helmet.

“Not gonna happen. Spent a lot of hard-earned creds on it, why’re you here Vizsla?” The bounty hunter sounds almost annoyed.

“Statement: It appears there is a bounty for you on the intergalactic holonet, Fett. Query: Who are these Death Watch? Statement: Information on the group ‘Death Watch’ is minimal even within classified documents.” the assassin droid said from the bounty hunters’ side. I blink,  _ ‘oh I want that droid if it can get a hold of classified documents in seconds.’ _

“Mandalore’s last warriors, they hate anyone who claims their ways but isn’t a member of their little club,” Fett told the droid.

“It’s not so little and only you would say that, Fett. Your  _ own clan  _ claimed your branch to be  _ darasuum dar'manda!” _

“That’s bad, isn’t it?” the changeling turned to Jango wearing a face that looks like she’d eaten a poorly cooked womp-rat. Jango just remains silent, the T-visor emotionless as the durasteel it’s built from. But his raised blasters and tight body language give away the facade, “very bad then,” she snarls, “HK?” the changeling turns to the droid this time, “what the bloody hell does darsum darmenda mean?”

“Statement: Darasuum dar’manda is a Mandalorian phrase loosely translating to ‘eternal outsider,’ the real meaning is much more complicated, Wesell.”

“Well…” She glances up at us, “if they aren’t shooting yet, explain.”

“It means he’s lost the right to claim himself as a Mandalorian, he’s never been a Mandalorian and will never be. He’s lost his identity and, by our customs, his soul. He is not of Mandalore and his own clan exiled his branch. That armor, and the heritage behind it, is barred from him. We have no quarrel with you, changeling, leave now and collect your bounty we will not stop you. But you traitor, today you die,” the changeling looks conflicted but looks to Jango all the same.

“Sorry, Jango, it’s nothing personal,” the changeling holsters her weapon and takes off into the woods.

“ _Ja'hailir_ _kaysh, Pruudi Cuir,”_ I order through the comlink, Jorr Kyramud is the best sniper death watch has and he hates Jango fett more than I do and his partner, Blake Wren, is a heavy weapons specialist. If Jango had tried to escape before we wanted him to then Blake would have knocked him out of the sky.

“Query: I am interested, Fett. Did you understand what the Mandalorian said or do you require this unit to act as a translator?”

“Shut up and do your job droid,” Fett growled to the HK model.

“Agitation: The meatbag said ‘Observe her, fifth shadow.’ Observation: I assume he meant the clawdite, Second Observation: You do not speak Mando’a.” That’s the moment Jango opened fire. His WESTAR 34s blazing as he dives behind cover, and if it was Fett alone the fight would have been almost laughably easy but that damn droid…

It fights like a true Mandalorian. 

“Eldar! Tra'cyar mav!” (Fire at will!)

“ _ I can’t get a shot, sir! Wren has a lock on the droid though, what the hell is that thing shooting?” _

“Ni nakar'mir,  _ but I want one!”  _ Came Wren’s voice over the comlink yet again.

“ _ No one asked you _ , Wren!” Maz called out.

_ “Less yappin’, more blastin’ boys!”  _ Ben called out as he lays down a line of fire over Fett’s head, taking a blaster bolt off the side of his helmet,  _ “damn it! We have to take out the damned droid if we’re going to get the bantha fucking traitor!” _

And I quite agree, the droid is laying down accurate and incredibly heavy fire from a gun that just doesn’t seem to want to overheat... Death Watch would have to create a land-based heavy trooper but… No! Focus on the battle! Activating the Darksaber I charge forward toward the demon.

Well… that was the plan at least, I step out of cover and go to activate my jetpack but a flash of green light overloads my helmet’s sensors.

_ “Vizsla! What the hell was that!?”  _

“ _ I don’t know!”  _ I turn off my helmet’s sensors cutting off my field of view but thankfully letting me see again and what I see shocks me. A young boy standing there looking around confused while the demon droid looks like it’s rebooting.

“Jorr!  _ Don’t let Fett getaway!  _ I’ll get the boy!” I say that last bit in galactic basic, there’s a chance Fett may have heard it and I’m counting on it.

I activate my jetpack, scooping the toddler into my arms and taking to the sky as fast as possible.

_ “Maz! See if you can’t reprogram that  _ thing  _ while I get the boy to the ship!” _

" Elek alor!” (Yes sir!)

The sound of a sniper rifle blasts across the field with Fett’s grunt of pain followed by a Jetpack firing off the ground.

_ “Sir, do we go after him?” _

_ “Did we capture the droid?”  _

_ “We did sir, congratulations - Death Watch has one of the first known HK model battle droids in the galaxy.” _

_ “Let him go, we’ll catch him another day. We have something more important to do.” _

I can’t help but smile at that, especially as my Gauntlet class troop transport came into view. I look down at the boy I have cradled against my armor, his green eyes wide at the feeling of flying combined with a look of wonder.

I land beside the starfighter, putting the boy down on his feet and kneeling before him.

“Hello, young one,” I pull my mask off and lock eyes with the small boy.

“Hi,” he whispers, “who are you?”

“I’m Pre Vizsla, what’s your name?”

“Mommy called me Percy but grandpa called me Perseus…”

“Perseus, do you know how you got here?”  _ ‘Teleportation isn’t possible but how else did he just  _ appear?’

“I -” the boy stops and hesitates for a moment, “I remember falling, it was so dark,” the boy hugs himself as he looks at me, “I want my mommy,” tears start falling from his wide green eyes.

I placed my hand on the boy’s shoulder to try and comfort him. The boy’s just lost his family with no idea how to get back and I’ve never had to comfort anyone before.

“Where are you from, Percy?”

“New York, Mommy said that was in America…”

_ “Boss… What is an America?”  _ Blake’s voice rings through the coms while the rest of the squad agrees. I ignore them.

“What planet is that on Percy?”

“Earth, but there’s only Earth is the only planet. No one lives on the moon… or Mars, but I think it would be cool to live on Mars!”

“Percy, I need you to think really hard for me. Okay?” I look into the boy’s eyes as my stomach clenches.

“Have your people ever been off your planet?” 

“Some people have been to the moon…” now the boy sounds worried.

“Perseus, if I’m right, you’re a long way from home.”

“Like China far away?” I can’t help but chuckle at the look on his face.

“No, quite a bit further. We’re on a planet called Ruusan, it’s in the Middle Rim and a territory of the Galactic Republic. Do you know where your planet is located?” Judging by the way the boy's eyes widened there’s no doubt about it, the boy has no idea what in the name of the Ancestors what the Galactic Republic even is.

“There’s a space government?” Surprise is rolling off the boy in waves and I want to know just how he managed to get off a pre-hyperspace capable world in the way he did.

_ ‘Haar'chak...’  _ (damn it)

“ _ Boss?”  _ I look up to see Blake, with the droid over his shoulders, and the rest of the crew standing behind the boy with their helmets off too, I wave my hand to them. They get the message and take a step back. I look down at the boy and sigh.

“You aren’t going to be able to go back home, Perseus. I’ve never heard of this Earth or Mars, but we will let you come home with us if you would like,” his green eyes water again.

“I’ll never see mommy again?”

I place my hand on his shoulder once again but remain silent. The boy steps forward and wraps his arms around me. I rise to my feet, the boy’s legs wrapping around me as he cries into my breastplate.

I look up at the men and say the highest words that the Mando’ade learn: “Ni kar’tayl gai sa’ad, Perseus. Par aliit ori’shya tal’din.” (I know your name as my child, Perseus. For family is more than blood.)

Percy’s eyes snap up to me with hope shining in them,  _ ‘did… did he understand me?’ _

The boy stuns us all with his next, and last words of the day, “par gar taldin ni jaoync; gar sa buir, ori’wadaas’la.” (because no one cares who your father was, only the father you will be)

“Bal partaylir: Mando’ad draar digu, ner adiik. Udes bal cuyir'su,” Percy smiles at me shyly before his eyes slide shut. (And remember, A Mandalorian never forgets, my child. Rest and be still)

Maz steps forward with a look of absolute shock across his face, “haar adiik jorhaa'ir Mando’a?” (The boy speaks Mandalorian?)

“ _ Yes, but how he does so is beyond me… Come, we need to get back to Concordia. The traitor can wait.” _

With the child still in my arms and the droid on Blake’s shoulders, we load into the starship charting a course back to our beloved planet’s moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't speak Mando'a but since it's a huge part of Mando'ade culture I had to add it in here or else I'm no better than those pesky Jedi, hope you enjoyed.


	3. A Different Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Balance has always been my goal. I will be with you, Perseus Vizsla."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own neither Star Wars nor Percy Jackson and the Olympians.

**_Nine-Hundred Sixty-Four Years After the Ruusan Reformation…_ **

**_Yavin Four…_ **

_‘Gotta keep moving… I can do this, I can do this…’_ I jog through the dense jungles in full armor, thanking the ancestors all the while that father left me my armor with me in that escape pod before he dropped me on this overgrown death trap of a world all while I was asleep... more likely drugged actually but only father or the household servants would be able to get that close at night. I should be screaming but I knew exactly what this was, Death Watch’s verd’goten. ' _Survive and you’ll be a member of Kyr'tsad, you’ll be a true Mando’ade if you just survive this. Keep going, Vizsla. If you can find and hold a defensible position for a week you should be in a good position to survive scot free. But where? There are temples scattered all over this damned moon - if I were to clear one of those I’ll at least have shelter.’_

Gritting my teeth behind my helmet, I raise my slugthrower and knife still moving forward.

 _‘I hate this moon, but then again it wouldn’t be worth it if Father left me on some world like fucking Alderaan, Naboo, or Scarif,’_ I feel myself smile slightly, _‘Scarif... that would be a sight, always wanted to visit that world, a world full of abandoned beaches? Paradise in the highest degree, Naboo on the other hand... I think I may commit a Gungan genocide if I was forced to stay there for a week,’_ with that happy thought I pick up the pace once again, _‘although Alderaan may just straight up die if I decided to visit - can’t stand those self righteous pricks, though that Bail Organa guy seems like he’d a good man if Father’s reports are even half true.’_

I keep marching for hours on end letting myself get lost in my thoughts of other worlds and people I might kill all while keeping a sharp eye out at my surroundings. I don’t know how long I’ve been trekking through this Ancestors forsaken world considering the first time I glanced down at the underside of my wrist I found my chronograph missing _, ‘damn you father, damn you. Now I don’t have a way to keep up with how much time has passed except for the holo… damn it. Well at least they’re consistent in their show times, never would have thought father liking that one soap opera would be any sort of help...’_ which is also useful considering the incredibly screwy night and day cycle on this moon. _‘I swear, I woke up at dawn and it can’t have been longer than five standard hours and the sun’s already setting.’_

Other than that slight issue, I know for a fact that A) the trail of animal corpses following me is going to attract trouble, _‘well… bigger trouble than those aggressive kriffs were,’_ and B) night is falling and I don’t want to be stuck on the ground, exposed, without a sun overhead _._ Thank the Ancestors I found a small clearing to blast off in just a few minutes after that thought crossed my mind. 

I feel my lips quirk slightly, even after years of studying weaponry, Mando’a, fighting techniques, politics, galactic maps and star charts, hyperspace lanes, flora, fauna, and ten thousand different ways to kill humanoids _alone_ it still wouldn’t save my bacon from a situation like this. Those lessons were designed to help me survive situations just like what I’m in on this shit hole moon but sometimes all you need is a good jetpack and an even better blaster. I can’t help the laugh that escapes me as I do a few acrobatics before resuming my search, ever since I qualified to own a Jetpack I’ve loved being in the air. Just something about that freedom but there’s just something not quite right about it...

Those darker thoughts fade quickly even as I feel an even wider smile cross my face remembering my first flight with Father, _‘what a mess that was,’_ and then training with his inner circle, _‘what a mess that still is.’_ Ben, Maz, Blake, Jorr, and Lux all mentor me in different subjects or disciplines along with father’s lessons on Mandalorian politics, planetary and our clan history, Clan Vizsla’s culture, our House’s ancient heritage, and what it means to be one of those who have carried the legendary Darksaber into battle. Father taught me the importance of what it meant to govern a world with a fist of beskar and a hand stretched out in friendship. Mandalorians require strength to rule, a weak leader would lead to us senselessly killing ourselves and then half the galaxy in our rage. Unlike those _democratic pacifist_ pricks in the Galactic Senate, Alderaan, Naboo, or even our near sister world Corellia - our world was forged in war and baptized in blood, every drop of Mandalorian blood spilled makes us that much harder to kill because we always pay our debts, especially when they’re paid in blood.

Ben and Jorr would always teach me on the same days - Ben teaching the arts of the battle rifle while Jorr did the same at a _much_ longer range. Ben may be like most Mandalorians in preferring to carry twin blaster pistols into battle but he’s incredible with a blaster rifle, I’ve never seen him miss a shot with that Umbaran rifle he stole from one of those prick Shadow People during his Verd’goten. While Ben is in the thick of things on the battlefield; Jorr, on the other hand, would take overwatch to make sure our brothers would come home to their families. Strangely enough, the Mandalorian Sniper lives by an ancient Correllian code, one of the tenants of that code is apparently _‘an ounce of sniper is worth a pound of suppressing fire’_ [1] and that man made me a believer three years ago. 

Father allowed me to come along on what was supposed to be a simple capture or kill order based on Felucia. We were supposed to get in, get our mark, and get out, but - like any mission I join in on - shit went sideways in the most spectacular manner. We were bogged down in a firefight with Hutt enforcers sent to collect our mark without having the decency to tell us who they were or why they were there but... that may or may not have something to with the fact that they died before we could learn who they were.

Our mark was a rogue bounty hunter that somehow managed to rip off _Jabba the Hutt._ How, in the name of the Ancestors, he managed that was beyond all of us but it had something to do with a case of mistaken identity and he managed to get out of Jabba’s palace alive. He made it across the known galaxy back to Felucia, yes. Back. In his haste to get away, the idiot just had his droid input the last known coordinates into his nav computer. Hutt managed to track his trajectory and called in an _incredibly high_ bounty on this one bounty hunter: a million creds.[2] Only trained Force-sensitives, or people that have really pissed Jabba off, get bounties that high. And Jabba apparently didn’t want to shell it out.

We arrived on the planet earlier than Hutt’s enforcers but hunting him took a lot of time, time that Jabba’s men took full advantage of to get to the planet in their slow ass Kossak-class frigates. While we were scouring the hellhole world, the Hutts took their time and also had the advantage of knowing exactly where the bastard was.

It took us twelve hours but we found the bastard holed up in an Old Republic era fortress, an army of his fellow idiots at his side. We took cover immediately as the Hutt enforcers swamped the gates, they died in minutes from the heavy blasters on the turrets. Yes, they knew where he was and that he had back up and still went for a full frontal assault... _idiots._

Blake and Jorr set up shop on the top of a rather tall mushroom roughly two kilometers out, the two of them insisted I join them. I had my macros set to watch the unfolding carnage while Jorr picked off the better shooters with his Verpine Shatter Rifle while Blake took out the batteries themselves.

Father, Maz, Ben and Lux Rau (who was father’s newest recruit at the time) infiltrated the fortress while Blaster Bolts peppered the battlements with Blake’s newest toy, a prototype MWC-35c "Staccato Lightning" repeating cannon and yes it was effective even at two kilometers away. After seeing HK-99’s personal model, Blake was hellbent on trying to find another and, by the Ancestors, he did. He hit gold on a small world, _‘well… more like a moon really,’_ called Morellia (located in the Corporate Sector) where he found the cannon’s manufacturer. Blake not only managed to get his hands on the cannon but he negotiated with the Morellian Weapons Conglomerate for a factory to be built into Concordia’s mines and got a contract with them to supply the cannons, and a few other wonderful weapons, to Death Watch and their newest faction - Death’s Hammer - alone. Led by Blake Wren himself, the Hammer Commandos don’t wear jetpacks anymore, preferring repulsor boosters built directly into their boots with heavier armor than a normal jetpacked Mando would wear, armor covering almost every inch of their bodies thus trading mobility for overwhelming firepower and protection thanks to the power banks and ammo belt being back mounted.

Back on Felicia - Father, Maz, Ben, and Lux infiltrated the facility while executing any bounty hunter they came across until they found their mark. The idiot himself, a Correllian whose name I don’t even care to remember other than the fact that he gained Death Watch the biggest bounty we had seen to date, had locked himself in a storage closet praying to his gods we wouldn’t find him. We did.

One wack on the head and a pair of restraints later and we had the idiot Corellian on the way to father’s Kom’rk class transport making our way back to Hutt Space. We made it to Tatooine before Jabba could launch another crew to capture the idiot much to his displeasure, we think Jabba actually froze him in carbonate and fed him to a Rancor... well that was Blake’s bet anyway. We left the Hutt’s palace eight million credits richer and in possession of one of Jabba’s pristine and modified Marauder-Class Corvettes, a compliment twenty Old Republic era Talon Striker-class fighters with shielding, and a few spare hyperdrives at my own request. Father thought it was brilliant for a ten-year-old but I saw an opportunity and took it, those fighters were worth five million credits alone considering you can’t usually find one in working order while these were all maintained and upgraded while the corvette, mods and all, was worth at least one million. Jabba may be a Hutt but he knows his starships.

I’m going to lead Death Watch one day and Mandalorian ships aren’t exactly subtle and we’re going to need space superiority fighters that _aren’t_ the Kom’rk. The Kom’rk is an amazing fighter/transport ship but it’s just too damn big to fit in a corvette, and if we’re going to sneak behind enemy lines then we’re going to need fast, dominant fighters to do that - and the Talons are a good a start as any.

  
The key to all this though? His name is Lux Ray. The recruit was - and still is - an infiltration specialist with a slicing history that would make a Coruscanti astromech droid nervous while also being Death Watch’s premiere hand to hand fighter. He’s an assassin who was trained by Teras Kasi masters in his family and by other shadow organizations across the galaxy who taught him fighting styles other than Teras Kasi after passing his Verd’goten.

Blake and Jorr were on overwatch but Ben fell somewhere in the middle of the two, preceding the blaster rifle to the heavy weapons but his blaster pistols always saw the most use. Blake was always fond of the phrase “ _There is no ‘overkill.’ There is only ‘open fire’ and ‘reload.’”_ [1] Ben though... back on Concordia Ben has always drilled me on the rifle until he was satisfied with my shooting, which isn’t very often - I always took to Lux’s lessons better after all.

Then there was Maz, Maz taught me how to shoot blaster pistols while on the move, in the air, on my back, crouched, probe and in ways I didn’t know existed. He was the man who taught me to always press an advantage, how to use my armor to it’s fullest for defense and offense, and was my overall combat trainer. While Blake and Jorr have their own creeds Ben has his own motto that he starts every lesson with “an offensive not taken is a battle lost, a battle lost is a war set on the path to defeat. We are Mandalorians, we are never defeated,” and all that training is currently keeping me alive.

Blaster fire mixes with jetpack blasts ring through the temple complex as I fight against whatever this _thing_ is. The beast is canine with glowing red eyes with malice almost dripping off of them. I thought I had managed to find a semi-safe area to hunker down in with this Temple thankfully I didn’t have to use too much of my Jetpack’s fuel cell in the trip here or else I’d be a little bit more than Bantha Fodder right now. The Temple looked to be a rather small complex, barely ten meters high, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The Temple entrance was a large, cavernous hanger but there was a staircase that opened when I walked by it but that forced the entrance to slam shut. Cursing, I realize there’s no place to go but down. Activating my helmet’a infrared and ultraviolet scanners I start my way down the stairs with my slugthrower in my left hand and blaster in my right.

I marched down those stairs for hours on end but the stairs seem to never fucking end. I almost stop and turn around to take off back up the stairs but that’s when the stairs bottom out. The small room I end up in is nothing impressive, probably three meters by three meters but with an incredibly intricate door on the other side. I cautiously push the door open and step through with my blaster raised the entire time.

That’s when the first growl sounded off in the catacomb. I instantly raise my blaster and pull the trigger in the direction of the sound leading me to where I’m at now. I dive behind a barrier and pray that there is only one of the damnable things, the only glimpse I got was the eyes and the body shape.

Breathing heavily, I peer around my cover to see if there are any more of those things that are making me the prey. I almost relax but my senses scream at me to move, I blast off out of place I was standing in just in time to watch one of those things slam into the spot I was just standing in. I land on my feet with one thought running through my head: _‘Oh, Rancor shit… that’s a big dog.’_

I finally got my first good look at the beast, thank the ancestors that there’s only one, trying to make me dinner. The thing has six legs, glowing red eyes, mangy black fur, and too many teeth to count.

“ _You’re one ugly mutt aren’t you?”_ I raise my Enforcer pistol and fire off a round directly into the thing’s forehead as it leapt toward me - it didn’t even get a foot away from where it was before it died.

I holster the slugthrower and the blaster, scanning the room for anything that could make an effective camp. But I need light first, _‘where are the light pannels in here? I know there have to be some somewhere… may have to use my flame thrower.’_

I scan the walls around the room before giving up and unleashing a salvo of fire on the things corpse, my air filtration unit working over time to keep the smell out but thankfully I have some light now. I nearly relax until I hear a voice call out to me.

“Your approach to slaying the creature was uncivilized… yet effective, Mandalorian,” the voice is masked by a modulator but it comes from behind me, I whirl around with my blasters ready to fire on whoever’s down here with me until I see that the voice didn’t come from a who but a what. A glowing purple figure with a black cloak covering its entire body, with random plates of armor across the figure’s chest and arms, with an antique Neo-Crusader helmet covering the figure’s face.

“Who are you?” I reholster my weapons, whatever this is it isn’t alive - obviously enough - so blasters aren’t exactly necessary, well... more like they’d be completely ineffective.

“I have gone by many names, but - in my time - most called me Revan.”

My blood freezes in my veins, “ _Revan? The Butcher of Mandalore?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Why are you here?”_ I growl at the apparition.

 _“You are standing in my grave,_ adiik. _The Force guided you here,”_ I scoff internally at that, _“as to why? I do not know. Perhaps it is penance for my sins or perhaps an opportunity for you to learn, maybe both. The Force is strong with you, though you will never be a Jedi, no… your emotions are too powerful for that already. You would become a powerful Sith, young Mandalorian, yes… I can see it now. You would crush the Galaxy under your heel. The greatest Jedi slayer since Mand’alor the Avenger with the strength of Emporer Valkorian himself - you would be great, strong in the dark side indeed.”_

 _“But I would be hated,”_ Revan doesn’t move, so I continue on, _“Valkorian may not be remembered by most of the galaxy but Mandalore knows the truth, but you? We respected your strength but hated what you did to us, although we know you tried to reunite our clans under a Mand’alor once more. As for a Jedi-slayer? The Jedi are beloved amongst the people now if I were to kill them I would be looked down on by the entire galaxy. I will hear what you must say, Revan, but say it quickly.”_

 _“I see you are true to your home and to your customs, I will guide you in the Force even though our time be short. When you are finished here, you must go to Korriban. Find the Tomb of Tulak Hord, he shall teach you the way of the blade but you_ must _prove your strength. You will need to be strong in spirit and in your convictions to face the dread lord.”_

“Oh, my dear Revan _,”_ a new, female voice called out in basic, “we both know that Hord won’t train the boy, even alive he refused to teach any apprentices… no, he’ll have to strip the memories from Hord himself and I can teach him how,” said the red-tinted ghost of a stunningly beautiful blonde woman, she’s one of the most attractive women I’d ever seen but her eyes... her eyes are the most terrifying feature she has. They’re a pulsating, ominous yellow ringed by a throbbing red that seems to exude menace and something else unidentifiable.

“Kallig Nox, I can not say it is a pleasure to see you once more.”

“Revan, Revan... you disappoint me,” the woman says to the figure who did not even turn to look at her, “You know my name is _Darth_ Nox, I earned that name after all,” she traces her ghostly finger down the side of the butcher’s mask in a slow, sensual manner that leaves me just a bit unsettled but also wanting to see more.

“Nox, you’re making the boy uncomfortable,” another voice calls out but from behind me this time, “ _and I know you speak the warrior’s tongue, heir of Tulak Hord, speak it among the sons of Mandalore.”_

A blue ghost appears at my side, a cape covering his beskar armor and helmet bearing my crest, the Shriek-Hawk of House Vizsla.

“ _Tarre, always the one to ruin my fun aren’t you?”_

_“Someone has to, my dear Kallig.”_

_“Be silent. We are not here for ourselves, we are here to guide the boy, are we not?”_ Revan interrupts the two but I bearly hear them - this is the legendary Jedi Knight of Mandalore? 

_“Yes, we are,”_ Tarre says in his rich baritone.

 _“Well, I do suppose so,”_ the woman pouts, genuinely pouts before her lips quirk into a predator’s smile. Revan steps forward and slowly sinks into a cross-legged position on the floor between Darth Nox and Knight Vizsla who join Revan in similar positions. I cautiously join them but never let my guard down.

 _“Listen well, padawan,”_ says Tarre.

 _“For we have much to teach but not long to do so,”_ says Nox.

 _“For you to become the Mandalorian_ _you wish to be, neither the dark nor the light can win within you,”_ says Revan.

_“Listen and know, Perseus Vizsla, the code of the Jedi, the Knights of the light,”_ says Tarre.

 _“The code of the Sith, the Lords of the dark,”_ says Nox.

 _“The code of the ancient Je’daii, Guardians of the balance,”_ says Revan, followed immediately by Tarre’s soothing baritone.

“There is no emotion, there is Peace. There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge. There is no Passion, there is Serenity. There is no Chaos, there is Harmony. There is no Death, there is the Force.”

I feel myself frown even as Nox starts her code in a tone created to sway masses or incite riots,

“Peace is a Lie, there is only Passion. Through Passion, I gain Strength. Through Strength, I gain Power. Through Power, I gain Victory. Through Victory, my Chains are Broken. The Force shall free me.”

I must admit, the code is tempting. A code that would ensnare even my people since to a true Mandalorian _Peace is a Lie._ The Jedi code preaches enlightenment while the Sith’s promises freedom. The Jedi code would to most sound like slavery, to the Force or to the Jedi order itself but that’s not quite true is it? The Jedi code preaches peace and enlightenment but at the cost of cutting yourself off from your emotions, from your humanity. _‘No wonder the Jedi hated the Crusaders, they violated almost every single tenant of their code.’_

The Sith code is far more dangerous but aligns with the Mandalorians much better. It preaches freedom but freedom of your emotions. And to me, that’s the most terrifying concept I have ever heard. The dark side of the Force is supposed to feed on emotions, amplify them even. If a force-sensitive were to give in to their emotions completely? They would be a slave to the Force, to their worst impulses.

And they would be a menace to the Galaxy.

The Mandalorians that fought with the Sith never had an issue giving into their rage on the battlefield, they didn’t have the Force making them superpowered psychopaths. Revan doesn’t give me any more time to ponder the meanings of either code further, though, as the final code is given.

“There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge. There is no Fear, there is Power. I am the Heart of the Force. I am the Revealing Fire of Light. I am the Mystery of Darkness. In Balance with Chaos and Harmony, Immortal in the Force,” the purple ghost’s visor flashes purple in time with Tarre’s pulsing a deep blue and Nox’s eyes change from yellow to a dark crimson for a beat. 

My breathing stops, the air thickens as something presses on my mind almost like there’s a presence flooding through the temple and my mind. It’s mind-boggling. It’s… right? _‘What is this?’_

_“You feel it, Mandalorian,”_ Revan asks in a calm, quiet voice but the words aren’t a question.

 _“The power,”_ says Nox.

 _“The peace,”_ says Tarre.

 _“The heart of worlds, this… this is the Force. Be one with it but do not…”_ Revan falls silent while Nox’s face, the only one visible, goes from an arrogant expression to one of confusion for a few seconds until she shatters the silence with a gasp.

“Your connection to the Force is blinding… Yet it is not of you and you are not of it… What are you?” a troubled Nox whispers as her eyes slide shut leaving me just as confused as her.

 _“He does not know the answers to the questions you seek, I sense his confusion. Open your senses, Kallig, and you shall see this as well,”_ Tarre says in his soothing baritone.

 _“You are wrong, Tarre,”_ Revan almost whispers, _“it is deep in his mind, the memories of Childhood that he does not know he remembers… Open your mind, Mandalorian, together we shall discover this mystery that plagues you. The Force itself wills it.”_

I take a breath, trying to recreate the concentration I can usually only find behind a rifle. This time though, instead of the target or the blaster itself, I focus on the darkness and the darkness alone. 

_“Good Percy… Good,”_ Tarre’s voice whispers in my mind. 

I feel… something press against my mind, followed by another, and another. In my mind, I see Tarre, Nox, and Revan standing in the blackness alongside me.

_“This is… not what I expected…”_

_“Nor I, Kallig,”_ Tarre says.

**“Nor should you have,”** the voice of the Legion rings through my head like a bell.

“Who are you?” The three ancients ask in unison while reaching down to where their lightsabers would be.

**“It matters not for my names are many…However, great-grandfather may suffice for you - Mr. Jackson.”**

Wait. _What?_

“You’re talking about me?” my mind (inside my mind?) works furiously as I try to figure out just what the hell is going on.

 **“I am. Your name was Perseus Jackson and your grandfather made a mistake in regards to you…”** the face of an old man promising to take me away, the face of another man, a question, falling… **“I see you remember Kronos, but do you remember what came before?”**

“I… there was a man?” my brows furrow underneath my helmet.

**“And a flash of light, perhaps?”**

Blue and green, the color of… of water?

**“Indeed. That light was your father’s gift to you, your inheritance if you would. But do you remember your grandfather’s final will?”**

_Perseus Jackson, I name thee my heir. Should I fade, you shall take the lordship of Time. So I say, so it must be._

**“Yes… Kallig Nox was correct, you are not of the Force and the Force is not of you. This Galaxy is the Nexus of the Force, but the Force is not truly omnipresent for all time and it is not omnipotent for all the Universe.”**

_“He is not of this Galaxy,”_ Revan whispers.

 **“No, he is not. He is of a world that has yet to be born, a place that shall die long before the light of her star touches where this galaxy’s ashes lie. He is of a people born of the Force,”** Kallig’s eyes bug out but mine are just as large.

“He’s of the Celestials?” Tarre whispers as he falls to his knees.

**“If only it were that simple, my dear child. Perseus’ people come after the Celestials albeit with the power to manipulate their world in ways the Celestials could only hope to do. They are my own children, my own creation. I wished to create a world of power, a world that makes the Force’s power seem a simple plaything, for what is the ability to move mountains when a single being can rock the planet itself with a thought?”**

The remaining two Force-sensitives fall to their knees.

“There is a world full of such beings?” Tarre whispers with horror in his voice.

“Is it possible to learn this power?” asks Kallig, already coveting such a power - not remembering she is a simple ghost.

**“Nay, Perseus will develop the power to shake the ground on which he walks but he will not be able to tear planets apart stone from stone. No, his power is over water itself.”**

Knowledge floods through my head, dropping me into a kneeling position - my hand coming up to clutch my forehead through my helmet. Memories that I never lived flood through my mind: an equine-man hybrid with a stick and string slung over his bare chest and shoulder, a fresher exploding water into a beady-eyed girl’s face, a canine even larger than the one I fought earlier, a small river healing me… Crashing into a river from hundreds of meters in the air but surviving, breathing and staying dry in the filthy water… the memories speed up until they’re nothing but a blur, a volcano exploding underneath me but living to tell the tale, a storm whirling around me, an ice sheet exploding under my feet, fire and glass surrounding me with an army ahead.

**“Behold, the destiny of another life, another reality. A reality where your father’s abilities within you were able to grow to new heights. This knowledge shall serve you well as I can help you no more. Lady Revan, I place my progeny into your hands.”**

_Lady_ Revan? I turn to the infamous figure as she sighs deeply, “Yes, I am a woman. Are you disappointed youngling?”

“No, you know Mandalorians do not judge by gender but by acts. I am simply surprised, not disappointed.” 

“Excellent,” the three masters rise to their feet surrounding me before I can blink. Revan before me, Tarre behind on the right with Kallig completing the triangle.

_“Reach out with your senses, Perseus,”_ I close my eyes, confused. _‘I’m not a Jedi, what do they expect me to feel?’_

 _“Darkness,”_ said Nox.

 _“Light,”_ said Tarre.

_“Death.”_

_“Life.”_

_“The beauty of Life.”_

_“The inevitability of Death.”_

_“Peace among us.”_

_“War on the horizon.”_

_“Overwhelming Light.”_

_“Dying Darkness.”_

_“The Balance has been disrupted by the Jedi, but they will come to their own end as the Force demands that the Jedi Order is to fall. There’s a crossroad approaching, do you feel it?”_ Revan asks me even as the darkness of my mind splits in half, one to grey the other to darkness, _“the day of the Jedi is at its end. If the Jedi are to survive they will need to transform.”_

_“And I shall be with you to see it through, clan of my clan.”_

_“As shall I,”_ Kallig Nox’s sensual voice wavered in my ears.

 _“Balance has always been my goal. I will be with you, Perseus Vizsla, I will be with you in Truth, Mind, and Heart. Who you were matters not, only who you are and who you shall become.”_

My eyes snap open to the sight of the temple glowing purple, red, and blue lights circling around me. The lights intensify as Revan’s, Tarre’s, and Kallig’s voice ring out a chant in a language I had never heard before anywhere in this galaxy or my old one. 

The rotations intensify as the lights merge into a haze of purple while the blue and red merge into Revan’s purple. I gasp as the purple light congeals into a dome around me, washing out the stonework of the inner temple I can’t help but take off my helmet at the sheer feeling surrounding me in that instant.

_“Perseus Vizsla, warrior of Mandalore, you are the Wayfinder. You shall blaze a path unto the dawn, a brighter future! Son of Mandalore, May the Force be with you.”_

The light washes over me and I knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] From 'The Seventy Maxims of Maximally Effective Mercenaries' rules 37 & 64.  
> [2] This is equal to what Savage Opress got in the Clone Wars.
> 
> As for Revan, Valkorian, and any Old Republic references, please know that I have not played Knights of the Old Republic or Star Wars the Old Republic, my information comes from YouTube, Wookieepedia, and the Fandom sites for the Old Republic.
> 
> All mando'a phrases come from Wookieepedia or the online Mando'a dictionary.
> 
> 964 After the Ruusan Reformation is equal to 36 BBY. I'll use Ruusan Reformation until the Battle of Yavin like characters in Canon would.
> 
> Oh, and the Corellian Bounty hunter isn’t Solo or Solo Sr, just a bit of shameless fan service :)


	4. The Strongest Whills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I own neither Percy Jackson or Star Wars. At times this chapter deals with the Sith, as such it is incredibly dark. I have left warnings where the content delves into these subjects.

**_With Percy…_ **

My eyes snap open and the first thing I notice, besides the darkness, is the overwhelming heat clawing its way into my climate-controlled suit, this thing is designed to resist hard vacuum and _heat_ is bothering me? I’m not on Yavin IV anymore, that’s for sure, it’s too damned hot to be Yavin IV. 

The confusing thing though is why I’m buried in something sand-like. I pull my head and bucket out of the pile of sand with a small sigh of relief, _‘that’s not sand that’s granulated fire!’_ I shake my head to clear my thoughts while taking in my surroundings through my bucket’s sensors, taking note of my jetpack’s empty fuel tank and the lack of power packs on my belt and also noticing I’m almost completely unarmed. Not going to lie, I panicked for a second when I realized I only had my Phrik enhanced Beskar dagger strapped to my back, my boot daggers, and gauntlet blades. I stop and take in a deep breath trying to remember how I got here. 

_‘There was a flash of purple light and here I am… So, is this reality or a hallucination? More than likely a hallucination but I have no idea why it would strip me of all my weapons. Oh well, I’ll survive anyway, but this place is a disaster zone. So... am I on Mandalore, Tatooine, Geonosis, Jakku, Malachor, or one of the other hundred desert planets in this damned galaxy? Okay observations first, there’s a single sun so it can’t be Tatooine and it’s white so this can’t be Geonosis. The sand is red so it can’t be Jakku, Mandalore,_ or _Malachor… Well, Malachor One that is. It’s the only planet in that system with a desert and an atmosphere capable of - somewhat - supporting life. Three are just giant rocks at the moment while Malachor Five might as well not exist considering what the Old Republic did to it.’_

The sound of an approaching ship tears me from my thoughts, I whip around to see a low flying vessel appear on the horizon. It takes five minutes for the ship to come within range of my helmet’s macrobinocular function, I don’t recognize the hulking shuttle and start to get even more nervous without my weapons on me. The shuttle soars over my head and lands with it’s the side facing me, instantly I recognize the symbol emblazoned on the side: the insignia of the Sith Empire. _‘This isn’t a hallucination - this is a memory…_ ’ 

The landing ramp falls with an audible hiss letting a group of fifty scared and confused children stumble out of the shuttle with two Lasat guards following them with their red lightsabers, _‘or would those be saberstaffs?’_ fully extended. My eyes turn from the group and their guards to a wire-thin blonde I instantly recognize. She may be younger but there’s no denying that the cherubic blue-eyed blonde girl in front of me will go on to be Darth Nox, Dark Lady of the Sith. But as right now? She’s just a terrified ten-year-old that wants to be anywhere but here. 

Before I could think about it anymore, I find myself kneeling in front of the little girl not knowing what I can do to help her, the answer is nothing. I couldn’t help the girl through the years of pain and despair. I watched Nox’s whole life play out from the day she was brought to the Korriban, where one hated masked man walked off of the shuttle with a lightsaber in his hand and one on his hip.

“There are fifty of you here,” the man called out to the children, “you are to cull the weak so we may find who is strong. If you prove yourself strong then you will be honored with a place in our ranks,” he tosses the lightsaber into the sand as the Lasats move to either side of the group with lightsabers raised.

**[AN Warning – Graphic Violence/Sensitive Content Begins]**

“Failure to perform will result in your death, you may begin,” the Lasats’ faces remain stoic even as one child tries to run to the desert. Surprisingly he makes it out and into the expanse of hellish red sand, “ah, our first brave soul! He will not live through the night, some of you will try to follow him but I discourage this course of action. Perhaps you need some… motivation?” One of the guards steps forward, bringing his lightsaber down on one trembling boy’s neck in one brutal, lethal arc. All except five of the children scream in horror as the boy’s body falls limp on the to the sand as his head rolls in the opposite direction. The girl I’m still kneeling in front of looks conflicted for a beat but her face hardens in the next moment, I beg her not to do this but fall silent when I realize she can’t hear me. I look down at the ground as she picks up the lightsaber for herself. She looks at the weapon, spinning the simple hilt in her hands with a look of curiosity on her face before igniting the humming blue blade.

“Yes, a Jedi’s weapon. A Jedi I slew myself; he was weak and so are you. Thus, you will use a weakling’s weapon,” the masked man audibly sneers. The girl just glares up at him then turns around to face the other terrified children. She dashes toward a small group of seven trembling children huddled together first and dispatches them with five quick strokes of the saber. I scream at the girl pleading and begging her to stop this madness - but it’s in vain. 

Twelve others finally realize it’s time to fight or to die and begin taking out the ones who haven’t realized there will be no mercy on this world. Nox and a boy a year older than her tear through the children almost with relish. The fifty are reduced to fourteen in mere seconds with Nox using the lightsaber to cut down her fellows one by one, the other children without weapons resort to snapping necks or, more simply, beating the others to death.

The fourteen face-off against each other, quickly realizing that for them to live Kallig Nox would have to die. As one, the thirteen wash over Nox managing to tear the lightsaber from her grip while only losing the hyper-aggressive boy that fought alongside Nox for most of the slaughter. 

The lightsaber rolls away from the writhing pile of flesh as fists fall on the girl’s thin frame repeatedly. Her screams ring in my ears, accented by the sharp snapping of fractured ribs, while I try my hardest to help her in any way I can but I might as well try to move a star with my bare hands. Seconds later her screams of agony transform to howls of rage, I’m not sure what happened at that moment - what went through Nox’s head - but the dogpile on top of the girl _erupted_ away from her. Two of the assailants were launched twenty meters into the air as the others were blasted out and away coming to land in bizarre, unnatural positions in the unforgiving sand. The airborne two fell with a sickening thud and the sound of snapping necks, they would never rise again leaving eight fighters left to face off against the beast named Nox. The masked man stepped down from his shuttle with obvious interest. 

But I didn’t notice him. 

I could only see the rage and hate swirling off the girl standing in front of me. Her emotions are palpable and damn near intoxicating, the Force swirling around us changing her eyes from her natural blue to a sickening gold as her face twists with incandescent fury. The no longer innocent girl’s cherubic face turns demonic as the dark side’s power overtakes her mind. 

Her right-hand snaps out toward the Lasat closest to her, the giant sentient looks absolutely shocked when the lightsaber was actually torn from his grasp. The girl’s eyes never left the children slowly climbing to their feet even as she spins the huge staff experimentally with a small smirk on her lips, then she charged her attackers.

The staff cut through every single one before most of them even had a chance to stand, she relentlessly cut down her opponents one after the other until there were only corpses lying in the sands of Korriban.

“What is your name?” The masked man stepped beside me as I knelt in front of the girl again with tears in my eyes and bile in my throat, this kind of slaughter would be too much even for a Mandalorian who’s been hardened by the carnage of war. Children should be raised to be the strongest they can be, not culled like chattel.

“Kallig,” she whispers while shaking of her head, her eyes change back to sky blue but this time they’re filled with tears. The fog of the dark side lifts from her mind, bringing her to her knees. For a brief second, I almost think she can see me as she whispers _“gods… what have I done…”_ tears sliding down her face from unfocused, _blue_ eyes. The saberstaff deactivates as it slips from her limp fingers and into the sand. Her eyes meet my chest plate and widen to the size of a lightsaber emitter. The girl ran _through me_ to get to the overturned corpse of the boy who fought at her side at the beginning of the fight, the boy was dead from a lightsaber stab to the heart. She knelt over him whispering a word while shaking him, begging him to wake up.

“Your brother, Boran Nox, dead at your hand. He could have been a fine apprentice, my own perhaps, but here we stand and there he lies,” the masked man says in a bored tone. 

“No… no, no, no!” Her eyes turn gold again as she charges down the masked man, he raises his hand and Nox is torn off her feet, hanging in the air by an invisible grip around her throat but her eyes are still burning gold.

“Yes… yes, give into your anger! Give into your hate! It fuels you, strengthens you!” The bored tone is gone as he gets in the little girl’s face, working himself into a violent fervor, “you know loss, you know pain, ‘tis true… but you have not learned enough,” he summons the saberstaff to him with the force examining the weapon.

“Tauron! This is yours!?” The masked man asks casually.

“Yes, milord!” The Lasat kneels in front of the man.

“She stole what was yours… repay her in kind,” the man says in a bored tone, letting go of the girl even as the giant alien’s eyes sparkle with unholy glee.

“Vekin! Hold her,” the alien looks down at the terrified girl who’s still panting for breath. Her golden eyes now blue again even as they fill with confusion, fear, and horror when she realizes what the beasts plan to do to her. I force myself to turn away all while screaming at myself that I can’t help her, that this isn’t my fault, even as the girl screams in pure agony while the Lasat brutes take their pleasure from her beaten, broken body. I glare at the still-unnamed masked man standing with his arms crossed as he watches the girl’s innocence be torn from her in ways that are unforgivable.

**[AN – Graphic Violence/Sensitive Content End]**

_“I don’t know who you are,”_ I growl at the Sith that I’m face to face with now, _“but history will never know you, you are doomed to be a footnote, a drop on the tide. Henceforth, I curse your days from this to your last that you shall not get away with this atrocity. You will die forgotten and weak, so I say so it shall be.”_ I don’t notice the nimbus of glowing golden light surrounding us but the Force sang in approval at the curse even as it screamed in pain as one of its daughters was raped in mind, body, and spirit. 

Years pass by, the girl cries herself to sleep every night even as she’s beaten and raped on a daily basis in the name of training but she never makes a sound under her abusers. Finally, the horrible day came where the girl shattered completely. Where a sixteen-year-old Kallig Nox finally and fully gave into the dark side of the force. She had given up on herself and hoped it would be her salvation, that the force would set her free. Hours of meditation later and the teen’s eyes snapped open, eyes that wavered for years between blue and gold as she fought to find the light within her and bat down the rising darkness… until today.

Her eyes are now the familiar wrathful yellow rimmed with molten fire of the Dark Side of the Force. Seconds later, one of the older Acolytes of the Sith Academy stormed into the room, ready to dominate and violate the slim, short-statured girl like he had dozens of times in the past, not this time. The human teen’s head snapped around with the snapping of bone as he laid his hand on the girl’s shoulder intent on dragging her to her feet. The look of horrified surprise forever etched onto his face. 

Thus, Darth Nox, Dark Lady of the Sith was on the path to her own creation. The next day she was assigned a permanent master, a Dark Lady that sat on the council of the Sith. Her master was one that would snap her limits like chaff. The newly dubbed Darth Nox took a mask to forever shroud her face to the galaxy, distancing herself from the weakling Kallig to one of the most feared Sith in Galactic History.

I watched her trail of destruction burn through the Galaxy, her discovery of the Force Walk technique, when she found she was the true heir of Tulak Hord and Kallig the first. Then a miracle and Darth Nox’s salvation in the form of a fallen Jedi named Ashara Zavros.

They turned from bitter enemies to partners in the body as the Force brought them together with Ashara’s fall to the Dark Side. With this event, Ashara tried to convince the broken Sith lady to use Revan’s method of balance to which she only replied, “I am Sith and only Sith, I have known nothing but the Dark Side, beloved. I’ve lived a life of pain and rage since I was ten years old. You will be the greatest of us all, my love, but I cannot join you on your path.”

For years I watched on until the Eternal Empire invaded the capital world of the Sith Empire, Darth Nox watched as her lover was slain by a Man with a yellow lightsaber and robed in white. The Knights of Zakuul could not withstand the power and rage of Darth Nox as she blindly fought her way to the man who killed her lover. The two met on the battlefield, engaging in a short yet brutal duel ending with Nox taking the man’s arm and blasting him away with a burst of Force lightning. The intensity was intense enough to tear into the man’s skull, leaving him scarred and unwhole. She stalked up to the broken man with her lightsaber raised and ready to end man’s life until a second yellow blade erupted from her heart. 

Thus, the legacy of Darth Nox, Dark Lady of the Sith came to a bloody end.

My world explodes into a white light even as the Eternal Empire marches away from the fallen, broken lovers.

My vision clears and I find myself out of the hellhole called Korriban onto a beautiful garden world, trees everywhere and a bright blue sky overhead. I can’t help but smile at the sight of green after living for decades in a hellish desert wasteland.

The sound of a starship incoming grabs my attention as it lands at the front of a small cabin, shockingly a man in Neo-Crusader Shock Trooper armor and armed with a blaster rifle calls out to the _Jetti_.

“ _Tion'cuy_?” The man calls out the under his helmet as a man in robes steps out of the small starship with hands raised in an obvious gesture for peace.

“I mean you no harm, friend, I am here on behalf of the Jedi Order. We have come to offer Mandalore peace, we have found your son to be strong with the Force. I have discussed this with the Mand’alor on the matter, your son has the potential to be trained as a Jedi Knight. May I see him?”

“If what you say is true, _Jetti,_ then I will accept the words of my _Mand’alor._ But I do not accept your word alone. Prove yourself!” The blaster never leaves it’s mark but now I’m interested, the man obviously gets Tarre which means this is the patriarch of House Vizsla.

The Jedi pulls a holo recorder out of his belt that shows a woman in more modern Mandalorian Armor, my jaw falls open at the instantly recognizable paint job on the armor… Mand’alor the Destroyer? 

“ _Jacen… cousin… I am sorry. We_ must _allow him to take the boy, if we do not the Republic will crush us under heel. He shall be trained as a_ Jetti _in the name of survival, he will know their ways but he is Mandalorian - he will be taught as a_ Jetti _but his blood is that of Mandalore,”_ the Destroyer’s voice is hard but it’s a mask for the fury underlying that scarily flat tone.

_‘After all, children over all - and this is her kin.’_

The Jedi turns off the holo as the Destroyer disappears from view, slightly uncomfortable at the unknown language. _‘Good, let them guess what the Destroyer wants. They’re stealing one of ours, the least we can do is keeping them guessing, and that wasn’t planetary Mando’a. That was Concordia’s derivative… or at least a basic version of it. Oh wait, we’re_ on _Concordia aren’t we?’_

Jacen Vizsla hesitates briefly before putting his blaster down, “my son shall go with you, _Jetti._ I do not like it but I do as _Mand’alor_ commands,” he turns sharply on heel, marching into the cabin as the Jedi stands next to his starship, awkwardly shuffling his feet all the while ready to run at the drop of a ribbon, but it wasn’t necessary. If Mand’alor orders one of their people to do something they will do it without hesitation or face the death of a Darmanda.

The Mandalorian and his wife walk out of the cabin with him still in full armor while she wears a helmet of similar design but most significantly was the child in her arms, Tarre Vizsla. Future Mand’alor and the first Jedi Master to leave the order under the direction of his liege

My vision blurs as the mother reluctantly hands the boy over to the unnamed Jedi.

Moments later clarity restores itself but my eyes blink involuntarily at the sight before me, it’s the single largest structure I had ever seen. That’s when I notice something interesting, I’m not quite solid like I was in the last memory. I look down and see my feet hovering off the ground as I move about six feet behind the man walking toward said structure when the world blurs again. 

The next thing I know is that I’m beside the man with Tarre at his side in a large circular room with twelve beings incredibly powerful in the force surrounding us. The closest sensation I could compare it to is standing in front of the Sith Dark Council, but while they felt like a raging inferno these people feel like the calm stirring before a hurricane. Thirty years of learning at Nox’s side and learning everything she did directly does come in handy in times like this.

“The boy, this is?” A small, hunched over greenish-grey alien asks in a surprisingly deep voice for such a small being.

“Yes, master Doya, this is the Mandalorian,” the small form of Tarre Vizsla tries to hide behind the Jetii’s leg at the council’s hard gaze, “he’s necessary to the treaty we have with the Mandalorian leader.”

“Indeed…” a Miralukian female comments as the rest of the council looks at the boy.

“We have no choice but to train the boy then,” the largest human male I’d ever seen commented while he strokes his thick, red beard thoughtfully.

“Do you speak Basic child?” A green female Twi’lek, no older than thirty galactic standard years old, asks the scared boy that just stares blankly at the Twi’lek who just sighs as I try not to laugh. The boy speaks Basic, every Mando is taught Basic and Mando’a by the time they can walk, and he’s three. Tarre has understood every single word the council has said and will report back to Mand’alor the Destroyer for as long as he can get away with it. After all, people will say more in the presence of outsiders if they can’t understand what’s being said.

“He will be sent to the…” the council chamber blurs again leaving me slightly surprised, this is nothing like Nox’s memories… 

Eventually, I find myself watching over a now six-year-old Tarre Vizsla with a lightsaber in his hand and a mask covering his face as he works on deflecting low powered blaster bolts from a repulsor droid.

Another blur and the boy is seven but flipping over an obstacle course with the grace of a cat. His feet barely touch the posts jutting out of the floor as he sprints over them and toward a net, he bounds halfway up said net before he can even reach it.

Another shift, another year where the boy is sitting in a classroom. For hours I have to listen to an old Zabrak prattle on over the importance of hyperspace and why it should be treated with caution. If I could have I would have jumped for joy as the class was dismissed right along with the younglings rushing out of the room. Tarre rushes out with them dragging me with him almost as if I was tethered to the boy. He and his fellows move on but instead of going with them toward the Turbolifts, Tarre waves and to them and hikes down the hall. Reality ripples as Tarre pushed open a door and knelt before a holoprojector.

The feed flickers on revealing the armored and helmeted form of Mand’alor the Destroyer.

“Tarre, I trust you are well?” 

“Yes, Mand’alor.”

“Excellent, what is your report?”

“Ma’am, the lessons are subpar and repetitive however swordmaster Sturo declared my year was to move into Ataru, she said that we had mastered the basics and there was nothing left for her to teach us. Although, she claimed I was gifted in Makashi beyond anything she had ever seen in one so young.”

“Makashi?”

“The Way of the Ysalamiri, Mand’alor. A duelist’s art, Master Uro calls it.”

“Excellent, you are a true Mandalorian, child. One day you will be welcomed home with the highest honors I can give you. I have been able to discuss with that giant on the council, remind me of his name?”

“Grandmaster Stor, Mand’alor. I assume you think that we are discussing the rancor-like man with the fiery red beard?”

“Yes! That would be him! I have spoken with him and he has agreed to allow you to come to Mandalore on the next mission to the planet or when you turn thirteen, we will have drinks in your name!” The woman pumps her fist in the air once as the boy’s face lights up.

“I’m going to have a verd’goten?” He whispers excitedly.

“You are living your trials now, child. No other has lived among the enemy for as long as you and came up on top,” the boy looks distinctly uncomfortable but at the same time he looks incredibly excited.

“You’ve made friends?” A hint of disapproval slips into the Destroyer’s voice.

“No, Mand’alor,” the boy sounds almost resigned, “the Jedi do not allow attachments, not even the bonds of friendship as it could lead to the dark side. I have clan mates but I do not have friends in this hellhole, but it is my home.”

The woman nods slowly while considering his words.

“Yes… I will consider this. You have done well, young Vizsla, we will meet again,” the holofeed cuts out before Tarre can say another word. The boy stays on his knee for a moment before rising to his feet to exit the room.

We don’t enter a hall though; we enter the mouth of a freezing cave instead as if the doorway had led directly to it. I turned around to see if that was the case, you never know with Jedi after all, but thankfully it wasn’t. _‘Wonderful... a new vision.’_

I feel the Force hum in a way that I haven’t felt since my time with Nox on Korriban, _‘Is this Tython? I’ve only heard legends of it but if it is - it’s incredible! If Korriban was a black hole in the Force, this is a Supernova.’_

The Force twinges around me pushing in a different direction, a name comes to my mind **“Ilum.”**

I blink at that, the Force has never spoken like that… but I recognized that voice, wasn’t that Jedi master Stor’s voice? So that was one of Tarre’s direct memories, interesting.

Alongside a now thirteen-year-old Padawan Vizsla, we enter the cave as the Force sings to both ancestor and descendant, but Tarre doesn’t hear the song. He turns a different direction from the source of the music, but his eyes are screwed shut with his forehead creased in concentration. Ice runs down my spine when Tarre turns down a cave that’s been brushed with the dark, not enough for the boy to realize what it was but enough that he should know something is terribly, terribly wrong with this path.

But he doesn’t. His feet take him further and further in toward the source of the feeling, much to my dismay. Minutes later we’re in a cavern lit by the light of hundreds of crystals surrounding us but what grabs my attention is the large black rock vein on the cavern’s wall. I tense up knowing exactly what’s happening, the Force cries out as its will is against the decision that Tarre is making at this moment but unlike the time I roared against a decision someone made I know nothing will come of this. After all, father still holds the Dark Saber but if this is what its crystal feels like in the Force I want nothing with it.

I feel myself pause for a beat as a crystal pulls itself free from the black vein in the wall only to feel nothing from it. The kyber crystal is Force null… _‘is it dead? That shouldn’t be possible... The kyber crystals found on Korriban are naturally red from the atrocities committed there but why, and more importantly how, could a crystal die? But it answers the question of how the crystal slipped by the council.’_

Reality shifts from a frozen cave to a lush, green field with one figure looming over a kneeling one. The sun sinking behind them strikes an incredible scene as the kneeling figure holds a small object up for the standing one to examine. The helmeted form of Mand’alor the Destroyer takes Tarre Vizsla’s kyber crystal with surprising gentleness.

“So, this is one of the Jedi’s infamous kyber crystals… You have done well, warrior of Manda’yaim,” the woman takes a large pack from her side, “it is time for you to be armored as one,” she taps a button on her gauntlet immediately followed by a repulsor sled covered by a tarp rising to about waist height. She tears the tarp off revealing a set of full Mandalorian Armor emblazoned with the Shriek Hawk of Clan Vizsla.

“Mand’alor… is this…” he trails off in a quiet voice.

“Your father’s armor reforged for you. He is of the Manda now, his armor shall protect you for the rest of your days. And as he is not here it is my honor to join you for the end of your Verd’goten,” she takes a flask from her hip and removes her helmet revealing a hard woman that looks to be in her late thirties but her silver hair gives that illusion away quickly. With a small smile she hands over the flask to the boy, “Ne’tra gal from my personal cellar,” her smile slips away as it turns into a mask of calm, _“from child to warrior, rise, son of Mandalore. Your fight has just begun.”_

The boy rises to his feet, accepting the flask with a shaky hand and raising it to take a long draw from it before handing it back to Mand’alor who repeats his action. 

“Thank you, mand’alor,” Tarre says in a small voice.

“It was my pleasure, Tarre, and please - call me Ranah” the woman smiles softly before pulling her helmet back on, gesturing to the repulsor sled, “now, I believe it is time to put on your armor?”

“Yes, Ma - Ranah!” the now blushing boy hurries over to the sled and pulls the armor on as fast as he can while still placing the armor on correctly, strangely there are two plates of pure metal on the sled I try to move over to get a better look but I’m rooted to the spot I’m hovering over, “Is this… is this Beskar?” The boy asks in an awed voice but it hits me like a punch from a wookie.

_‘Pure beskar? Why in the name of the ancestors would there be_ pure _beskar on that sled?’_

“You have your crystal, you have your Force, but you do not have your materials to make the blade itself - now you do. It shall be worthy of a Mandalorian,” the boy’s face slackens right with his jaw while his face turns sheet white, his eyes turning to a size Hutts would be jealous of.

“I - I will make it so, my liege,” the boy whispers as he takes a knee once more.

“Excellent, now what did I tell you before?” Her voice, even muffled behind the helmet, is obviously amused.

“Sorry, Ranah…” the boy blushes even harder as she hands him the helmet sitting on the sled.

“You’re learning boy, come. Your master will be wondering where you are,” she turned her back and started walking toward me with the flustered boy not far behind.

The world shifts and I’m standing in the middle of a small clearing with the stars shining bright above me, the sky is clear but that doesn’t catch my attention - the boy sitting in the clearing does. The boy is lost in the Force as his crystal and the warping, writhing beskar hover in front of his face. 

The beskar draws itself out into shape even as the crystal shifts to place itself within the emitter shaft. It takes the boy an hour but eventually his lightsaber is complete, without opening his eyes he reaches out and takes the hilt in hand.

When he ignites the blade, all the darkness in the area seemed to draw itself into the weapon to create a solid construct of void - _darksaber_ couldn’t be a more apt description.

Once again the world blurs around me as the darksaber is retracted into the hilt of a deeply troubled Tarre Vizsla.

But my world does not resolve itself into clarity, instead the world blurs around me. Memories, conversations, sights, sounds, and another ten thousand things rush past me like water down rapids. The memories focus with crystal clarity in my mind until my vision sharpens and time slows down around me on a desert planet with a man standing on an outcrop with a legion of armored humans kneeling in the sand below. I turn to the fully grown man beside me, armored in full beskar’gam with the aliik of House Vizsla emblazoned on his forehead and a familiar shaft of metal in his hand - a lightsaber. 

“We stand here today in honor of my mother in heart and sister in arms, Ranah Teh Naast, adopted by House and Clan Vizsla by my authority as head of both! She lived a warrior’s life and died a warrior’s death after eighty-seven years of battle, we honor her today! As a warrior of Mandalore she fought for her world, as the voice of Mand’alor she pushed our world to heights unimagined! We fought, we lost, we fight again!” The Mandalorians erupted into roars of approval with cheers of _‘Mand’alor! Mand’alor! Mand’alor!’_

Tarre just stood there frozen in shock along with me, _‘this is how Tarre Vizsla, Mand’alor haar Jetti, was born? At his own mother-in-heart’s funeral? Wow… Wait, he’s still a Jetti isn’t he?’_

Time blurs once again as if in order to answer my question. I find myself in the _Jetti_ Council chambers once again, Tarre standing unhelmed and looking to be between thirty-five to forty galactic standard years old but the look on his face is almost as hard and impassive as the beskar helmet tucked under his arm.

“Masters,” Tarre says simply with a head bow.

“Master Vizsla, know why you are here, you do?”

“Yes, master Doya. The events from last night.”

“Correct, you are. Mand’alor and Jedi at same time, you cannot be. One or the other, choose you must,” the small green alien says with steel in his voice. Tarre remains silent as the rest of the council looks toward the Grandmaster’s chair.

“Grandmaster Hawkun, what is your opinion on the matter?” A Mon Cala asks the Chiss occupying the Grandmaster’s seat. 

“We are of one mind,” the Chiss says calmly, “Master Vizsla, you must choose the order or your homeworld - but not today,” the council looks at the Grandmaster in shock before they nod with the Chiss’s next words, “your padawan’s trials are set for dawn, you will appear before us after the celebrations in raising him to a Knight of the Jedi Order. Are we agreed that he is to knight his Padawan when the time comes?”

“I second the notion,” a human on the council says.

“All in favor?” The grandmaster asked, the council voted unanimously, “we are agreed, we will see you here tomorrow - _Master_ Vizsla,” the grandmaster announced. Tarre gave a head nod to the council before turning on his heel and striding from the council chambers but I did not leave with him.

“If he leaves the order what do we do?” A female Zeltron voiced.

“There’s nothing we can do,” called a resigned Mirialian.

“Unfortunately, that’s not quite correct,” a Duran said quietly.

“You suggest we use the Shadows?” the human from earlier said obviously stunned.

“I suggest we use whatever force necessary to protect the Order,” the Duran shoots back.

“Enough!” The Chiss grandmaster said with his hand between his hands, “we have much to discuss.”

The scene ripples but I’m still in the same spot but a helmeted Tarre’s back at my side.

“Have you made your decision, Master Vizsla?”

“Mand’alor,” Tarre says confidently, “I am Mand’alor of Mandalore, my time with the Jedi Order is at its end.”

“Then you will need to hand over your lightsaber and begone,” the Chiss says with a resigned tone.

“I refuse. I built my lightsaber, it is mine by right and Mandalore’s by creation,” Tarre says in a heated tone.

“It is a Jedi’s weapon and you are no Jedi,” the Duro points out.

“If that is the case I’ll be going,” Tarre turns on heel before the council can gather their wits and is out of the Temple before the guards realize they are to detain him.

Time warps once again as I stand beside Tarre on the field of battle, his darksaber crossed with a bright green lightsaber in return.

The two are silent as they duel but I can see the sheer determination on the man’s face, he’s determined to beat Tarre but Tarre’s determined to win for his people. The duel intensifies until another combatant drops from the trees, I scream at my ancestor trying to pull him from the battle rage that pure Mandalorians are subject to.

The blue blade erupts from his chest, killing him instantly. The two Jedi take the Darksaber and disappear into the night.

Thus, the legacy of Tarre Vizsla, heir of the Destroyer, Mand’alor, former Jedi Master, and one of the lost nineteen ended at the hand of his lifelong comrades. The catalyst behind the most recent Mandalorian wars on the Jedi Order and the trigger behind the collapse of the Jedi Shadows.

Color explodes in front of my eyes as I find myself in the strangest, yet calmest, place I’ve ever seen.

“Welcome to Ruusan, young one.” 

I whip around to see the masked form of Revan hovering in the air in a cross-legged position.

“Master Revan,” I nod to her as she moves out of her meditation.

“Come,” she starts toward a trail behind her with me close behind, “welcome to the Valley of the Je’daii. Many Sith and many Jedi have fallen trying to reclaim this holy ground they mistakenly call the Valley of the Jedi. This place is a nexus in the Force, a place where we may speak freely for a few moments, young one. Unlike Nox and Tarre, I do not give you my memories, instead I gift you the memories of my archives. Any techniques I have learned you will be able to perform in seconds. I only ask one thing, restore the balance.”

“Yes, master Revan. I will not let you down.”

“I do not expect you would, begone and may the Force be with You.”

With a wave of her hand light explodes once again.


	5. Unity

"Uughh…" I feel myself groan through my foggy senses. My senses sharpen quickly and I realize something isn't right but then again nothing's right anymore, nothing can be right after living two lives and gaining Revan's knowledge. My head's pounding from the sheer amount of information flooding through my head and the light itself.

' _Wait… Light?'_ I snap to attention with blasters almost appearing in my hands as I come to my feet, ready for anything that may happen. _'Where the hell am I? I was in Revan's tomb most definitely not a sunny clearing,'_ I think as I replace a blaster in my left thigh holster while activating my helmet's scanners to take stock of my surroundings. I find absolutely nothing, not sure if that's good or bad.

' _Alright, Percy here's what we're going to do. We're going to see if we can find that cave again, it was Revan's tomb. Maybe I can hunt down her lightsaber until I can make my own, ancestors know I'm going to need one. I know all the damned forms thanks to Kallig and Revan but without a weapon those are rather pointless.'_

So with that in mind, I asked my helmet's computer to reroute me to the tomb.

" _Error, coordinates are for current location. Please enter different coordinates."_ I blink once, then twice before the words on my screen register. I sit down again, crossing my legs and letting my mind drift to what it saw last. I feel… everything… the voice of the planet, the feeling of the grass, but what screams to me is the water surrounding me.

I gasped at the feeling, scrambling to my feet even in the middle of my panic. Even wide-eyed and panting, I couldn't help but reach for the water surrounding me. The water in the air, the water in the ground, the water in the trees, it all answered my call with a horrible twist in my gut. But I'm a Mandalorian, pain will not deter me.

I watched in awe as a globe of water surrounded me in a practical ray shield, one that I doubt even the strongest blaster fire could penetrate. With that thought, the shell around me froze into a dome of ice thick enough to hold off something like a bowcaster. With a grin some would call horrifying, I coalesce the ice into a makeshift sword and shield. Primitive yet effective, I thought before I threw the ice sword like a blaster bolt.

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head as the sword sunk to its hilt in the tree, _"by the ancestors,"_ I whispered in fascinated horror at the sight before me. I approached the tree and, with a tap, melted the sword in the tree.

My mind warps into overdrive at what's just happened, _'I knew I was fast and I knew I was strong but fuck me… I didn't realize I was_ that _strong… Imagine what you could do with a lightsaber,'_ I actually froze in place at the thought of that, _'I need to make my own lightsaber. But how? Only The Vizsla can wield the Darksaber and that's dad or whoever he chooses to wield it, I'll have to make my own won't I? Alright, I'll need to make a trip to Ilum but that's assuming I can survive here for a week.'_ I sat down to think of a way I could find food and water and nearly laughed at the second part, summoning water to my fingers without a thought.

' _This isn't the Force, it's much more primal. Not stronger, just wild…'_ crosses my mind, _'okay, water is taken care of. Shelter and a food source next.'_

I looked around at the thick vegetation and snorted, cutting down a few of the thinner trees with a thought and focusing on my fledgling connection to the Force. It's nearly nonexistent but it is there.

I close my eyes, settling into one of Tarre's favorite meditation positions. I let the memories of that other life wash over me, the horse-man Chiron, Poseidon, Kronos, Camps Half-Blood and Jupiter along with everyone else are pushed away into the Force - they aren't necessary. The memories of manipulating water, earth, and storm though? I kept those and focused on them even harder.

" _I am one with the Force and the Force is with me,"_ goes through my mind as I take in deep, heavy breaths.

A few minutes later I feel the pulse of the force in front of me, reaching out. I reach my own _'hand,'_ out to take the one it's extending to me. I feel my body numb as I connect to the glowing, pulsing presence in front of me. I can't help but gasp at the feeling of life pulsing through my veins, the light around me with the ever-encroaching dark. The life of the entire galaxy beneath my very fingers. It was intoxicating, powerful, heady… But all things must end as I suddenly felt myself crash back into my body.

"Shit!" is all I can say as my eyes jerk open and I fall on my back from the shock of actually having a body again. I shake my head trying to clear the tingling and the red tint clinging to the edges of my vision. My face splits into a wide grin as I felt the force sing around me.

I called the water around me and pushed it into circular saws, aiming them at a few trees of equal size and cutting them down. Next, I concentrated on the Force and watched as the logs assembled themselves into a primitive log cabin seen on some of the more heavily wooded worlds. I couldn't help but smile as the cabin assembled itself but frowned when I saw that there wasn't a door but thankfully there was a chimney hole. I focused on the water once again, working to cut a door in the small cabin and it did so rather quickly but I had no idea how to actually make a door that would swing open. So, to get around that, I found a massive leaf and fixed it to the top of the door with a rock I cut down into a pair of nails with my newfound abilities over water.

I couldn't help but take a step back and appreciate what I created in just a few minutes when there are people who could spend their lives working to replicate even this much. With a small smile and a whispered thank you to the Force, I stepped through the front door into the rudimentary home and immediately saw what I assumed was going to be my fireplace.

"Rocks," I said quietly, "I'll need rocks so I don't burn down my new house." With that in mind, I set off in a direction I felt was right, trusting the Force to guide me to where I needed to be.

* * *

Hours passed and not only had I not found rocks for my shelter but the Force was insistent that I keep going. I just grit my teeth and looked up to the sun and planet of this world, trying to determine how much daylight I had left to work with. Looked like I had a decent few hours left. With a sigh, I kept up my march.

Thankfully, the walk wasn't bound to last much longer. The air around me gained a definite chill as I kept the march. I couldn't help but bristle slightly at the obvious taint of the dark side creeping around me.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked the Force but the question might as well have been to myself for all the good it did me. The trees around me started to thin and shrivel as I kept up my pace until they fell away entirely as I entered a clearing holding a small pyramid drenched in the Dark Side. The thing was built from twisted, black rocks that I could have sworn weren't natural.

" _Who approaches the Tomb of Naga Sadow?"_ A gruff voice whispered across the plain.

"Perseus of House and Clan Vizsla, son of Pre, The Vizsla and head of Death Watch. Who dares approach me?"

" _A Mandalorian, how interesting…"_ the voice said with a small chuckle, _"why have you come to this place, Mandalorian. You are young, inexperienced even… A rite of passage, perhaps? A lamb lost on his way?"_

"The Force guided me here, and the Force shall give me strength," I said back to the unembodied voice.

" _Then come, heir of Revan, Nox, and Vizsla, come and see,"_ the voice whispered and the presence faded.

I took off at a sprint toward the Temple wondering just what I had gotten myself into.

The Temple's inner sanctum was a mess. Dust was covering the floor with bones strewn about at strange angles, indicating that they died horrible, violent deaths. I shuddered slightly as I kept up my march.

I followed the Force once more, praying it wasn't leading me to my death.

Eventually, I had to slow my run down to a jog as the temple seemed to stretch further than what should have been possible as it went further and further down into the Earth. I couldn't fight the shiver as the Dark Side tried to overwhelm me once again but it would take more than a little darkness and some bones to do that after watching Kallig's life.

Soon enough I found myself at the remnants of what had once obviously been a magnificent door but had been pummeled to kindling and shrapnel in a pile on the floor. Using as little precious fuel I could possibly use, I used my jetpack to aid me in jumping over the shards of the mighty door, I don't want to disturb anything if I don't have to and using the Force to blast away the door would do the exact opposite of that.

I felt my durasteel shod boots clank onto the floor with a thick metallic clang but I landed rather gently in front of the rubble in the center of the room as the Force fell completely silent.

" _You stand before the tomb of Naga Sadow, Dark Lord of the Sith and master of Sith Alchemy. You stand where a legion of Jedi once stood to destroy my final resting place, you stand in my presence that was strengthened by the blood of the Jedi who died destroying my tomb. Rejoice, Jedi, for I die once and for all today,"_ the voice whispered in disgust.

"I am not _Jetti,"_ I spat, "I am a Mandalorian, the Jedi are weak but they are not entirely wrong just as the Sith are not - yet neither see the bigger picture. There is a light side and a dark side but only in the grey can true power be found," I said as I felt the Force's presence strengthen around me once again, pointing me to a spot to my left. I raised my hand, calling on the Force to pull whatever it wanted me to have into my hand. Immediately, three lightsabers jumped into my waiting palm and stuck there. I looked at them in stunned silence, quickly clipping them to my belt before turning from the tomb - The Force finally satisfied.

" _You walk away from me, boy!?"_ the presence hissed and I just smirked.

"I am one with the Force and the Force is with me," was all I replied with - repeating Tarre's mantra - as I walked out of the tomb.

* * *

By the time I was able to reach my cabin, night had fallen but thankfully the light of the planet was enough to guide me on my way back. I could only shake my head as I finally pushed the leaves aside and entered, glad to be back home even if it was without food.

I quickly unclipped the lightsabers from my belt and found that two of them had blue blades while the last was crimson. The first thing I noticed was how the Force almost screamed in pain from the red crystal. I set to work immediately, somehow knowing what to do.

I levitated the intricately carved shoto lightsaber, removing the crystal from the weapon - not noticing the other two blades rising into the air, disassembling themselves in the process as I closed my eyes while focusing on the sobbing kyber crystal.

"What did he _do_ to you?" I asked the crystal quietly as I focused on drawing away millennia of hate, rage, and pain. The crystal (from what I could tell) sobbed in relief as I pushed a bit of myself into it. I sagged in on myself slightly as the crystal finally fell silent, its pain a long-forgotten memory.

I opened my eyes and could only stare in shock at what appeared before my eyes, a brand new lightsaber and shoto pair sitting side by side as spare parts hovered in the background with a pulsing white kyber crystal hanging in midair. I curiously took the pair of intricately worked hilts with a slight bit of awe, _I_ made these… I _made_ these!

I put the shoto down and worked my fingers over the rather heavy but gorgeously crafted hilt. The hilt had scrollwork carved in black standing against the Chromium finish of the handle, but what really stuck out was the lack of buttons except for the prominent three. The other lightsabers had at least five each while this one is a bit more streamlined. I immediately knew what each did but the fact that they were still so few was a bit confusing. I looked at the hilt again and finally realized something important, the two side emitters. I couldn't help but grin maniacally at the sight of those, a crossguard lightsaber!

I pressed the activation button at the top of the hilt while looking at the two situated closer to the bottom of the hilt, the intensity and length settings. I couldn't help but grin when the deep blue lightsaber sprung to life in my hands, the humming blade practically alive in my hands with the crossguard at full extension. I used the Force to call my Shoto to my left hand and activated it too. The shorter, matching blade hummed like its larger counterpart but just much, much higher pitched. The blade lengths were strange as the saber was a full length sword of nearly three and a quarter feet long while the Shoto barely crested ten inches fully extended. It might not be much help in a sword fight but I can think of uses for it.

I grinned as I shut off the sabers, clipping them to my belt as I called the rest of the spare parts to me - especially the spare Kyber Crystal nearly thrumming with power in my hands.

' _This week is going to be_ very _interesting,'_ I thought as I levitated the Kyber Crystal to eye level with my visor.

* * *

"Well, I wasn't wrong when I said this week was going to be interesting," I muttered to myself as I scratched a seventh tally into the wall. So far this week has been nothing but lightsaber training, somehow I knew I wouldn't need food so I made sure I practiced every single lightsaber form that Tarre, Kallig, and Revan knew. Unfortunately, I would need a few years and a dedicated arena to do that but I think I could hold my own with a Padawan now.

I shook my head as I cracked my neck and moved back to the small clearing I had found, working on trying to produce a third lightsaber from the bits and pieces I had or could find using the Force. Thankfully, the construction was coming along well and I think I finally had a functional third lightsaber even if it was rather plain.

I just shook my head, a lightsaber's a lightsaber no matter what it looks like, _'except for mine, the crossguard and the fact that both work underwater set your blades apart.'_

I couldn't help the grin that stretched across my face at the thought. I found out the hard way one day that my lightsaber can work underwater thanks to a freak storm that rolled in and nearly drowned me. Thankfully, that didn't happen but I had been working on my lightsaber forms that day and my lightsaber didn't falter once. I was curious so I took it to the small stream I knew was close by and activated the blade underneath the water. The most reaction I got was the fact that the water practically erupted into a steam geyser in front of my helmet.

But that was then, right now it's meditation time. I fell to my knees, my saber and shoto spinning around me as I focused on the third saber in front of me and the crystal clear Kyber with parts swirling around it. With a breath in, I felt the Force pushing the parts in certain directions and I let the Force work through me.

Sure enough, after a week of hard work and dedication to making this third lightsaber it came together before my eyes. As I suspected, the hilt looked more like a flashlight than an actual lightsaber but that just made things even better. A weapon that doesn't look like a weapon is something no one expects.

The lightsaber gently floated over to me and I took it in my hand, activating it with an easy grin. Surprisingly it only had the activation button. I frowned slightly, twisting the blade in my hands until I noticed the butt cap and the emitter had reeds wrapping around them. Acting on a hunch, I twisted the butt cap and noticed it only gave about a quarter turn while the emitter cap had three distinct settings.

Grinning, I activated the blade and could only stare at the white blade humming from the saber. I twisted the cap and watched as the blade extended and shrunk back into the hilt _'okay, so the emitter cap is the intensity toggle. Awesome!'_ I thought as I moved through the motions for form three with the white blade. It felt like an old friend but still not as good in hand as my Crossguard saber felt.

' _Bo Katan would like it, she's always said how badly she wanted a lightsaber but didn't want it to be Jedi colors and she hates red. Ancestors know how her sister would take it if she found the damn thing though,'_ I twirled the blade easily, slashing through a random tree with ease, _'we're Mandalorians not Alderaanians, damn it!'_ the snarl on my lips turned feral as I thought about the planet of pacifists, _'at least Naboo has Starfighter division and an effective guard. Alderaan's defense force would collapse like a house of cards against any determined militia. Also, Naboo's little election system isn't terrible, kind of like raising a man to the title of Manda'lor so I can live with it. Corellia's government is just as bad as their planet though, at least Death Watch has a leadership hierarchy we follow - Corellia's just a fighter pilot's wet dream.'_

Finally, I hit the switch on the lightsaber clipping it to my belt as I made my way back to the cabin. After the half-hour walk, I got to the clearing my cabin was in and immediately noticed something was off. I ducked into the foliage as quickly and quietly as I could, trying to find what that sixth sense was trying to tell me. Then it hit me, wood smoke. Someone was in my cabin.

I could have growled at the realization but I stayed silent, I had three massive advantages against anyone in that cabin: my water powers, my armor, and the Force. Slowing my breathing, I slipped through the shadows as quietly as I could until I got to the front of my cabin with a WESTAR and my slugthrower ready to go at a moment's notice.

I was just about to step into the door when the leaf was torn down to reveal eight silhouettes in the fire light, eight silhouettes in Mandalorian armor.

"Percy!" The voice of my best friend called out as I was taken off my feet in a bear hug from Bo Katan Kryze.

"Hey, Kat," I groaned under my helmet, "father, guys," I called over Bo Katan's shoulder to the men howling with laughter.

"Perseus Vizsla," Dad's voice rang through the cabin, "you have fended for yourself for a week, you have survived isolation and the elements with nothing but your wits and your gear. I name you Mando'a cin vhetin, a Mandalorian through and through, kneel," Pre Vizsla says as he pulls the familiar form of the dark saber from over his shoulder. Immediately, Bo Katan unwrapped herself from around my waist to rejoin the group. I raised my hand to stop dad who looked slightly confused as I drew my own lightsaber and offered it up as the anointing weapon. Dad looked surprised but took the blade anyway, the familiar *snap-hiss* of the lightsaber activating rang through the cabin as he activated my blade, returning the darksaber to its sheath. There was a small chorus of gasps from the two youngest members of the group as I took a knee in front of my father, "you have found a weapon worthy of a Mandalorian, but you hold the weapon of a _Jetti._ Use it to defend yourself against our ancient enemy and any enemy of Mandalore.

"Rise, Perseus Vizsla," he said as he hovered my lightsaber over my shoulder, "a warrior of Death Watch. Remove your helm."

I did as he asked and watched as he removed his helmet too, a broad grin across his usually stern features. After returning my lightsaber to me in the traditional fashion, we nearly tackled each other into a hug. The next thing I heard and felt was the other seven bodies crashing into us with maniacal laughter ringing through the cabin.

* * *

"So you mean to tell me that you found out you can use the force and that _you_ built this cabin?" my other best friend, Gar, asked in quiet disbelief.

"You better believe it, Saxon," I grinned back at him as Bo Katan examined the newest lightsaber I built.

"A week though? That's just a bit unbelievable," she said as she pressed the ignition button on the blade. I couldn't help but grin as she stared at the white blade wide eyed.

"Yeah, just a little," I said while scratching the back of my head nervously in the back of Dad's Kom'rk frigate. It's been a few hours since dad and his crew picked me up and we were on our way back to Concordia now, I had told them my story but left out meeting the three spirits and the weird tomb.

"But you just happened on the lightsaber parts?" Gar grunted as he held my shoto.

"No, it was more like I was led there," I told them, waving my hands as I do.

"Really? You expect us to believe that?" Bo snarked and I just shrugged.

"Believe me or not, doesn't matter to me," I said back with a shrug and they nodded at that as the door to the cockpit hissed open to reveal dad and the other five warriors who all had flasks in their hands while Blake, Jorr, and dad had two.

"Percy," dad said with a broad grin as he handed me the flask, "I think you know the tradition?"

I nervously took the flask and uncapped it nervously, nearly gagging at the smell but Blake just grinned evilly.

"Netra Gal, boy! Vizsla family tradition! Gal'gala!" he said as he turned his flask up to the ceiling. Gar looked down at his flask just as nervously as Bo Katan who whispered something that sounded suspiciously like 'tihaar doesn't smell anything like this…'

I looked at dad who nodded at me, I took a sip and thankfully kept myself from gagging at the strong, burning drink, "that's horrible!" I groaned as I handed the flask back to Blake.

"Ahh, just wait!" Jorr said with a goofy grin before the feeling hit me, "there it is!"

I felt my head turn to near mush just from that one sip before it passed with a pleasant burn through my body. I turned to look at Bo Katan whose eyes were just as wide as mine. Instantly, I snatched the flask back from Jorr and took a deeper hit from the foul tasting drink as Kat did the same. Dad looked at me with a small bit of panic and pride in his eyes.

"Thankfully we'll be back home in two minutes," he said as he looked at me and then at Kat before sagging in on himself slightly as the rest of the group grinned and whooped loudly. I didn't know what was going on but apparently Bo did but didn't care as she stared at me. All I could think was I couldn't wait for those two minutes to be over.

I looked at dad and then at my helmet and jetpack, I knew we entered the atmosphere of Concordia just a few minutes ago so I immediately stood up to put them both on. Bo looked confused for a beat before she got the idea and strapped on her own gear as fast as she could.

"We'll meet you at home," I said as I pressed the button to open the door while the five whooped even louder, Gar looked slightly in pain, Dad looked resigned but proud, and Kat was giving me a look I couldn't identify but knew I liked before her helmet went on and we jumped out of the ship.

* * *

"Did you spike their drinks?" Jorr asked Blake as the door hissed closed behind the two teenagers who had just jumped out of the ship.

"Of course I did," Blake said proudly, not realizing that the eighteen year old Gar Saxon was standing right there, "they've been friends for years, totally comfortable with each other, and you know as well as I do that Love Wallop pills don't do shit other than jack up testosterone or estrogen and dopamine. Not that we really had to, damn cabin was swimming in all of it," Blake said with a bit of an eyeroll, "besides, you and I both know the best thing to celebrate the Verd'goten's finish is a good woman!" he clapped his friend on the shoulder with his meaty hand as Gar just shook his head and sat back down, waiting for the ship to land.

"Of course, they'll probably beat us back to the governor's place," Jorr said loud enough for the teen to hear, bringing back memories from his first time with his woman back in Sundari city.

"Just a little longer, love," Gar whispered with a smirk, "just a little longer and we can have our time."


	6. Counterstrike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing relating to PJO/Star Wars

"The ETA Actis Starfighter," Pre Vizsla said as he pointed out the specs of the ship on the Holo out, "a next-generation interceptor. It's faster than our Talon Strikers by a factor of three in sublight but, unfortunately, it doesn't come with a built-in hyperdrive," he said locking eyes with me, "but you know where to find one of those, don't you?"

"Watto," I grinned brightly at the thought of my old acquaintance. Dad just massaged his forehead while in his governor attire, he couldn't wear his armor all the time but then again neither could I.

"That poor Toydarian," dad muttered as he leveled a slightly baleful look at me, "but you know your mission. If the Starship is good enough for your missions then I expect the Strike unit to be fitted with them by next year's end. You will procure the ships by any means necessary, if you need to take your team, so be it. Go, you should have this mission finished by week's end."

"Dad, you know I can finish this by the end of today," I said with a crooked grin. Dad just sighs and nods.

"Yes, but at the end of the week we are due to leave for Naboo. I would have you seen at my side after the disaster that was the dinner with the Duchess," he says with a glare at me, I throw my hands up in defense.

" _Dad!_ That was two _years_ ago! And Blake spiked our drinks! Of course, we were going to be awkward for a while in public," I said exasperatedly. A week after my Verd'goten's _memorable_ ending, we were due to be seen with the Duchess for a state dinner. The pacifists had been adopting Alderaanian ideas and thought that _dancing_ would be a wonderful item for the docket, like that was a good idea to do. A thirteen-year-old and a fifteen-year-old who had just went at it like rabbits for most of the week being seen in public together was never going to be a good idea to begin with but when you add in the fact that we had been friends for years before that then it would make since that people would think you would want to dance together.

Wrong.

Bo was so embarrassed that she turned the same shade as her hair before darting away from me. We made it for it in the sparring yard a few weeks later and then again in the bedroom… Woman's a minx.

But anyway, we're still close friends and only do _that_ after life and death missions. Fortunately, those are more common than not since I founded the Strike team and she founded the Nite Owls (bloody _terrifying,_ they are). Usually, she'll bring her best friend Ursa and another one that refuses to speak on missions with me and my six commandoes. They're the best of the best at what we do, the Force Sensitives of Mandalore.

We're armed with the best tech all the same but we're the elites of Death Watch, the ones I managed to find that is. The Jedi will usually avoid Mandalore like Plague so it makes it that much easier to find those people.

Most of us aren't armed with a lot, just the jetpack, the bootjets, a blaster, and lightsabers scavenged from what I can find on planets like Malachor, Ruusan, and other powerful Force worlds - though, I'll admit, I got the hell off of Malachor after scavenging as many lightsabers I could from that pyramid I stumbled on.

Anyway… The crystals I managed to scavenge went to the Strikers as they meditated to make their own lightsabers. They're the most lethal force on Mandalore, and I'm the baddest motherfucker of them all.

The amount of weapons I carry into battle is actually a little ridiculous but it's better to be prepared for anything than other incinerator and urn. That being said though, the Strikers are a speed and lethality group, an answer to the Jedi Shadow Guild. But to do that we need speed, and the poor Talon just can't deliver on that. They're great for the twenty heavy troops I keep as a compliment to my crew but they're not what my team needs.

I can't help the grin that crawled onto my face thinking of the Starfighter, dad and I discussed a few options like the Headhunter and the newly made Fang but both of those were too noticeable, better for attack roles than scouting or hit and run strikes like my team would use. And besides, the Headhunter and Fang are both outclassed by the Talon Strikers on board the Fist.

I shook my head as I walked to the speeder bike hangar, we could wear armor around the mansion whenever we felt like, all of the staff _were_ Death Watch after all. I slipped my helmet on as I hopped on my speeder bike, taking off toward where my ship was grounded - I had a mission to initiate.

The trip wasn't terribly long, just about half an hour but I was going at nearly five hundred miles per hour the entire trip… Semantics. But even after all this time I couldn't help but smile as the Fist finally came into view. Jabba may have updated and built this ship from the ground up but there were _always_ room for improvements - like painting the hull black. Seriously, everyone's all about needing stealth tech but a good coat of black paint is sometimes all you need - and thus all of my ships were painted black.

Seriously, if there's not a star or another light source too close to the ship then seeing the thing should be damn near impossible - then again most people _want_ you to actually see them in Space.

"Bout time, Perce," I heard come from the gangplank. I looked up to see the black and blue armor standard to Death Watch with our own little twist on it. The Six standing in front of me are wearing completely black armor with only a few blue stripes on the chest piece and outlining the classic T visor on our helmets.

"Shut up, Green," I said to the guy, reaching my hand out to clasp his. He does easily even while we're all in armor.

"What's the mission, Boss?" the left-most female warrior, Saorise Anios, asked.

"Infiltrate Kuat Drive Yard," they all started nodding I know I saw at least one of them flinch, "and steal one to seven of these," I reach out my hand and let my holoprojector show off the starfighter, "the ETA Actis. It's fast, maneuverable, light, heavily armed, and well shielded. It's slated to be scrapped so it's successor - the Actis two - can take over. A much inferior ship but _much_ cheaper to produce. We take the ships, get back to the Fist, and get out. Understand?"

"Got it," Sao said quietly, even being one of my elite troops, she knows just how hard this raid is going to be.

"What's the time frame?" Sam Xophos asked, his arms crossed as he inspected the hologram.

"One week, less actually," I replied. He pulled his head up sharply at that but it wasn't him that responded. No, that honor would go to Tara.

" _One week!?_ Are you insane, Vizsla!?"

"No, I'm not, Saxon," I sneered slightly, she's a good fighter and I know I can rely on her when shit hits the fan but her personality is grating, "these are orders directly from Father," she immediately backed down hearing that.

"Is that all?" I asked the assembled group who just shake their heads, "good. Prep for a jump to Kuat, we have a mission to complete," those four immediately jumped into action, leaving me with the last two, my specialists: Ayla Tenau and Julius Rau - the daughter and son of Lux Rau and Maz Tenau.

"What are our orders, sir?" Ayla asked quietly while Julius stayed silent as he usually would.

"Keep the others in line, make sure the stealth generator is operational, and get the heavies under control. This isn't a wreck and check mission, this requires Stealth. I want us to drop out of hyperdrive at least a day's travel out from the Drive Yard. We can approach at Sublight and avoid their sensors for as long as possible. It's a drive yard, ships are in and out of there on a regular - we shouldn't be seen in the shuttle."

"Yessir," Ayla said as Julius nodded and turned away to go prepare for the rest of the voyage.

**XXX**

"Approaching Kuat Drive yards, the shuttle is prepared to launch, Striker Vizsla," I nodded to my team as we approached the processing yard.

"Anios," I said simply, she nodded as she launched the small, cheap shuttle. It's basically an escape pod but armored to withstand a turbolaser barrage, we're basically flying a tank into the Drive Yard. What makes it even better is the fact that the thing resembles a hunk of space junk, pulling it off most sensors. The bad part? There's no life support system onboard so we have to rely on our suits' internal systems to protect us from hard vacuum and lack of oxygen. To communicate we mercifully had short-range radios, ever since the invention of the galactic holo most people hung up whatever other forms of communication their own planets developed in the face of the cheap, effective communication grid.

The only other form that still saw use were comlinks but those were easy to listen into, radio waves were largely ignored if they were even spotted. Still scrambled the frequency to be safe though.

So there we went, in a bunker-like shuttle headed toward the largest starship manufacturer in the known galaxy to try and steal their shit… Their shit that they were about to scrap but it was theirs all the same.

"Five hundred yards out, Trident. Approaching the ring and gravitational field," Anios said through the radio. I nodded and slammed my fist into the button to open the airlock and hatch.

"Then let's go," I didn't give my team time to respond as I opened up full thrust with my jetpack and bootjets in the zero-gravity environment. I took off like a blaster bolt as I waited for my team to exit the pod, it didn't take them long and it didn't take me long to spot the scrapyard.

I briefly thought that for a drive yard that their systems were shit but then again, they probably have defenses to redirect asteroids. Sure enough, we watched as our faithful scrap pile was yanked from its trajectory toward the ring like it was pulled by a rope. "Tractor beams," Ayla said, "the emitters are on the north and south sides, spaced out every three hundred meters. The weakest point should be between those."

"Roger, Lieutenant," I said back, we all have code names for missions, hers happens to be LT by how efficient she is.

"Let's move," Tara said, antsy as always.

"Cool it, Hotshot," Ryan said back quietly.

"Shut it, Oak, we have a job to do," she huffed back as she angled herself toward the center of the tractor beams with us in tow. I quickly take the lead, the tip of the spear if you would. I got the nickname since I insisted on taking point while Tenau and Rau stayed by my side, making us look like a Trident, but I took the nickname.

"Initiate Radio silence, in three… two… one… Silence until the target is acquired, split into your teams. Rendezvous here if the target is not found in three hours or - if you get caught - launch your flare, Godspeed," I said as our magboots grappled onto the durasteel surface of the ring surrounding the planet. We quickly split into our groups, Oak and Golem (Ryan and Sam), Lieutenant and Phantom (Maz and Tenau), and Hotshot and Captain, leaving me to go alone to find the starfighter.

It takes forever to find the starfighters but thankfully we found them, fueled up, unpainted, unserialized, and unarmed. I couldn't help the grin that crossed my face at the sight of the hundred of them sitting on the platform innocently. I tapped the side of my helmet to activate my radio and sent the team my position. In seconds, the team appeared at my side like helmeted ghosts.

"Now the hard part," Hotshot muttered as she clambered into a starfighter. The bad thing? I agreed with her. Getting in is _always_ the easy part. No one likes getting their shit stolen, even if it is slated to be scrapped or refitted.

Together, the rest of us entered the cockpits and activated the preflight checklists. I glanced around at the controls and just couldn't help but grin, a simple, easy cockpit that anyone with even a little experience could get the hang of.

"What're the top speeds on these things?" Oak's voice rang through the radio and I responded with:

"Mach Three."

"Rather slow, isn't it?" Hotshot, of course asked.

"For now, but it'll get us to the Fist in seconds. We can soup them up when we get to Naboo, but first I have to visit a miserable Toydarian on Tatooine."

"Watto? Why do you have to visit that cunt?" Golem asked.

"Buy a hyperdrive off him and see where he got it so I can steal some for you guys," I said with a vicious grin that they obviously didn't see, "initializing take-off sequence," I tapped my helmet and activated my comlink to the ship giving the preplanned signal. Immediately, the crew prepped the jump to Alderaan and then up to Ossus so we could double back to Mandalore. It might take longer but it's safer in the long run.

"Take off in three… two… one… Liftoff! Go! Go! Go!" I said into my mike, feeling the little starship take-off faster than any blaster bolt could think about being. I almost thought we would get out of there Scot-free but that was a load of Bantha Fodder.

We managed to get about three-quarters of the way to the ship before we were being shot at by turbo laser batteries. Thankfully though, Kuat either is _very_ good at their job or terrible at making weapons because those bolts just glanced off of the shields like they were nothing. Mercifully, we made it back to the Fist before the shields could fall too low and making the jump to Alderaan.

I jumped out of the ship, pumping my fist as I did as Golem and Hotshot did something similar before rushing off to their shared quarters. Mandalorians are pretty open about sex and, honestly, it's not all that surprising. A warrior culture where children are pretty much the top of the food chain?

No brainer.

Thankfully, the rest of my team weren't quite as amorous as those two were. Oh, they still celebrated but just with a lot more alcohol and a hell of a lot less sex. I grinned as I looked over at LT standing there with her helmet under her arm and a small smile on her face. I walked over to the blonde and punched her shoulder gently.

"Yes, Tri?" She asked quietly, a bit of a smirk playing at her lips.

"Lighten up, LT," I said with a grin, "we did our jobs and that was the _least_ messy mission we've ever had! Isn't that worth celebrating?"

"It might be," she said, pushing off the dark grey starship to turn to face me with a smirk still playing on her lips, "in private, I assume?"

Yep, definitely a smirk. One accidental orgy and suddenly _everyone_ thinks that that's all you think about. Although… "I wouldn't see why not," she stepped closer and took the collar of my baffle-weave bodysuit and pulled me down to her lips. _'Maybe this won't be such a long flight after all…'_

**XXX**

"Percy, do you _ever_ stop?" Ayla asked as she looked down the bedsheet once again.

"I don't think so," I said pensively. I've never been tired out by a woman once, no matter how many there are (though my record is taking on the three Nite Owls and Ayla all in the same night), or how long we go for. It's probably a gift from my heritage but it wasn't like I was about to tell her that. We laid there for a few beats of silence before she rolled off of me and toward the place where she threw her body suit and armor. She pulled it on with quick easy motions, but started talking to me as she readjusted some of the straps.

"Yeah, I'm sure. You want me to send in Captain?" she asked with a smirk on her lips, "or maybe even Hotshot?" I shuddered slightly at the second name, we only fucked once but that was the closest I ever came to being worn out.

"I think I'm good, she and Golem seem to be getting pretty close. I think they're considering dating," I said seriously. Mandalorians may be ridiculously open about sex when single but we're loyal to the mothers of our children to the very end. Dating is almost a religious experience in our culture, if dating doesn't work between a couple the two are rarely even seen in the same room anymore.

"Oh damn," LT whispered before shaking her head, "and Captain?"

"I think I'm good, but if she wants to come in tell her to come in whenever," I said nonchalantly. LT nodded and turned out of the room, fully dressed but with a noticeable limp.

I couldn't help but smirk as she left but summoned my lightsaber to me a few moments after the door hissed closed. Perks of being the owner of the ship? My own private quarters to meditate in.

I let my lightsaber float in the air before me, disassembling and reassembling the blade absently. It was always a post-mission thing for me to do, the light the Kyber Crystal produced was always calming and time was running short to get back to Mandalore. The mission might have taken three days but it was looking like it might take us three to get back to Concordia without any unexpected delays. I couldn't help the slight grumble that slipped from my chest as I thought about the upcoming mission to Naboo.

The Duchess said that we ought to tighten relations with a water planet that _wasn't_ inhabited with nothing but criminals - like Aquaris. I couldn't help but roll my eyes slightly at that. Yes, Concordia and Mandalore need water but Naboo is mostly _saltwater_ not freshwater like Aquaris. Yes, there are ways to strip the salt from water that are relatively cheap but why spend that money on shipping water from _further_ across the galaxy and then paying _more_ to purify that water?

It made no sense to me but there was the niggling in the back of my mind that this wasn't just a mission for water…

**XXX**

"Perseus, you're early. Was your mission a success?"

"More than successful, dad, we got seven of the Actis Ones but they were slated to be repurposed, not scrapped. Kaut has something in mind for them."

"As I suspected," dad said, tapping his chin slightly, "go prepare for the mission to Naboo, we will be leaving tomorrow. Pack your armor and gear on the Fist, if things go awry then I want as much firepower as we can waiting for us on Enarc or closer if you can manage it. There have been whispers that the Trade Federation is doing something with Naboo, if there's a battle coming then I don't want us unprepared. Take my gear as well," he said quietly as we walked down the hall, "and, for the sake of the Manda and my own, go shower boy!" he barked with a wrinkled nose. I just lifted my eyebrow before the unmistakable smell finally hit me.

"Damn you, LT," I whispered as I went to my rooms to clean up before dinner.

A few short minutes later and I was finally back at my room, ready to shower, pack, and sleep for three days. I entered my code and pushed the door open only to see a familiar face sitting in one of my armchairs.

"Hey, Perce," she said cheerfully, standing up to greet me.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you but what are you doing here, Kat?" I asked with a small grin.

"Officially? I'm visiting my friend before he goes on a diplomatic mission to Naboo on behalf of my sister, the Duchess of Mandalore. Unofficially?" she pulled the tie on her dressing robe, letting it fall away, "you've been gone too long and I have no idea where you've been, so," she started walking toward me, laying her hand on my tunic since I left my armor and gear on the Fist, minus my lightsaber of course, "you're going to tell me exactly where your dad sent you and why."I couldn't get a word out before she pressed herself to me, nipping at my neck.

"Kuat Drive yards," I groaned slightly, wrapping my arms around her, "sent us to capture a few interceptors for the Strikers."

"Still pissed you didn't let me join, Percy," she said playfully as she pulled my shirt off.

"Bo, the one time I let you use my lightsaber nearly killed us both," I deadpanned, "and don't forget that I _gave_ you my third to defend against Jetti," I cupped her bum in my hands as she pouted up at me.

" _Maybe,"_ she admitted, "but what kind of guy just gives a girl a lightsaber on a small ship full of bounty hunters and says _get the door open! I'll hold them off?"_ she grinned up at me as I just shook my head.

"One who's holding off thirty Hutt enforcers while the target is behind a durasteel vault on a capital ship when it was _just_ the two of u-aghh," I groaned as she bit my neck a bit harder.

"Also got you an awesome nickname with the Hutts," she said playfully, "and me one too but yours is _much_ better."

"Yes, because Death is sooo much better than the Lady Reaper," I said with a grin, "okay, so I really need to shower. You down?" I asked with a grin.

"You know I'm down for _anything,"_ she whispered in my ear and, Ancestors help me, she really was. The woman was insatiable.

**XXX**

"So when will you be back?" Kat asked an hour later, our shower went a bit off the rails and took much longer than either of us expected.

"I'm not sure," I said truthfully, "it could be in a week or it might three years, you know how these things are."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully as she took her pants from where she had folded them on the dresser, "true enough, but you better keep in contact," she hissed and I couldn't help but gulp nervously before nodding, "good," her face softened as she pulled her beskar headband on.

"This won't be the last time we see each other," I said quietly, cupping the older girl's cheek. She leaned into my hand slightly before she pulled away.

"For even in Death we are united," she said quietly.

"For even in Death we are united," I repeated our old mantra back to her. It was something we said on our first mission together and it's just kind of stuck since then, I would have even adopted it to my strikers but this is our thing. We nearly died on that mission and I told her that so that she would remember we wouldn't be alone for long.

"Be safe out there, Percy," she whispered as she leaned in to kiss me, I returned the chaste kiss easily before parting with her.

"And don't forget me," I told her just as easily.

"I could never forget you," she said as she walked back through the door, "and if this mission is what I think it is…" she trailed off before locking eyes with me again, "go with the Manda, Percy." is all she said as she turned away through the door.

I just looked at the door frame as she left, wondering what she could have meant.

**XXX**


	7. Landfall and Extraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Naboo

“Why is there a Blockade?” I asked dad quietly as we stood in his Kom’rk’s command bridge, his frown deepened as he stood with his arms crossed in his ceremonial garb.

“Those are Trade Federation ships,” he said as he nodded toward the Lucrehulk. I just nodded, having run afoul of the Trade Federation in the past I knew exactly who they were and what they were all about.

“Great, another business venture. But why Naboo?”

“This isn’t a business venture,” dad said with a deeper frown, “I need to speak with the Duchess, contact your people and we’ll sort this out,” he turned around toward the comms deck as I pulled out a secured holocom from my belt. Almost immediately, LT’s hologram appeared in my hand without armor.

“Yes, Percy?” thank the Ancestors we had this little gig figured out. Since Maz and dad go back, Ayla and I can act as friends whenever we want.

“Hey, Ayla,” I said with a grin, “bit of a situation here, think you can get ahold of Kat? It may be important,” the conversation was total Bantha Podo, the only part that was of any note was that last sentence.  _ Everything’s good, it may be nothing, it may be important, and it’s important I speak with her,  _ all indicate the threat level. This is a level three: stand by within lunar orbit distance of target location. If I had given her a level four, she and the Fist would be at my location in minutes.

With the message sent and after a bit of idle chit-chat later, I finally cut off the Holo and turned to go find dad. Whatever was happening here was bound to be a headache and I only had a blaster and lightsaber.

**XXX**

“Yes, Duchess, but why did you  _ not  _ see fit to tell me that the Trade Federation was having problems in the middle and outer rims  _ before  _ you sent us on this mission?!” Dad asked heatedly.

“We expected Naboo and the Mid Rim planets to not be a part of these aggressive negotiations, Governor Vizsla, but I can see why you are displeased. The mission will proceed if you can make it to the ground, if that so fails then you may return to Mandalore but not a second sooner. Fail to do so and you will be removed from your position as Governor of Concordia,” the Duchess Satine said with beskar in her tone, “is that understood?”

“Yes, Duchess,” father said quietly, but underneath the cool exterior, you could see him fuming with rage.

“Excellent,” she said, “the Queen has the docket and the plans are being sent to you now. Good day, Governor,” the holo flickered off as dad and I both growled.

“She  _ just now  _ sent you the meeting itinerary!? We’ve known we were due to go to Naboo for nearly a  _ month  _ and we’re just now getting the itinerary?”

“Yes,” dad growled just as lowly but sagged in relief as he read the datapad in his hands, “thankfully it’s just minor negotiations but there’s definitely a theme here,” he said with a frown.

“And what would that be?” he just passed me the datapad so I could read through it myself. I felt my eyebrows climb higher as I read the pages, “retrieve as many gallons of water as you can, trade water for  _ beskar?!”  _ I asked with a yelp, looking up at dad slightly panicked, “she can’t be serious?”

“She is, but she does not know that Concordia will provide beskar but only in its raw form and laden down with other minerals. If the Naboo want Beskar then they can learn to forge it themselves or they can buy it from us for a premium,” I relaxed slightly realizing that the docket never said it had to be  _ forged  _ beskar, just to trade the metal.

“And how much beskar will they be trading for their water?”

“Water on Naboo is cheap and fresh,” dad said, “I will refuse anything lower than a pound of beskar for two million gallons of fresh water. I am willing to offer them up to three hundred pounds of raw beskar as that is still a rather small amount of the actual ore.” I nodded at the idea, three hundred pounds at a rate of two million to one? That would easily hydrate Sundari city for a solid week.

“Yeah, but what else can we offer?” I ask quietly, “We need to offer something better than three hundred pounds of beskar  _ per week  _ to keep the capital  _ alone  _ hydrated.”

Dad just sighed, “Naboo doesn’t accept weapons, the only ones they use are in the palace and even those are made on world or on their moon. Their Starships are some of the best in the galaxy and the only thing else we have to trade are our services in protecting the Palace with Death Watch and you know why that isn’t viable.” I just remained silent as the ship moved toward the blockade. Immediately, the holoprojector snapped on to show a Neimodian.

“This is a Trade Federation blockade! Naboo is closed to all access, state your name and business here!” 

“I am Pre Vizsla, governor of Concordia, the moon of Mandalore. I was given an assignment by the Duchess Satine Kryze to come to Naboo and engage in diplomatic talks in exchange for their planet’s water as Mandalore no longer has a native source.”

“Mandalorian!” the Neimodian squealed as he dashed off the holoprojector. I raised my eyebrow from where I was standing and looked at dad as another Neimodian stepped into the frame.

“I am Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade Federation. Perhaps you would consider trading with us, Ambassador?”

“I am unauthorized to do anything of the sort,” dad deadpanned back to the arrogant Neimodian.

“Then our business is at an end, Naboo will soon be open to tra-” an explosion cut him off as dad looked up at me sharply. I nodded to him as the Neimodian tried to convince dad that the massive explosion was nothing to worry about. I was already on my way to my room, tapping out a message on the pocket radio I kept to transmit to my team when shit was about to hit the fan. The Strikers should be springing into action as we speak.

The ship started moving out from the blockade, heading back toward wild space as dad played his part of being convinced. I made my way back to the cockpit to see the familiar form of the Fist approaching our position.

“Captain,” I said to the man behind the controls.

“Yessir?” The unarmored Death Watch member responded.

“Contact the Five, discreetly as you can. I want this ship at Tatooine, we’re going to take the Fist to the surface and see what this invasion is abo-”

“Belay that order,” dad said as he strode into the command deck, “we’ve been given permission to land, I will speak to the queen. I want the Strikers to land along with a complement of Heavies if the queen and her retinue need to be extracted. Understood?” I saluted with my fist across my chest and rushed to the airlock as I felt the Fist couple to the Kom’rk, “go with the Ancestors,” I heard dad say as I bolted through the door.

**XXX**

“Status report,” I barked at my Strikers as I stepped on board.

“Planetary communications have been cut off and a fleet has been launched toward the planet, your father’s Kom’rk is currently being jammed and two starfighters have been scrambled to escort him to the surface.

“Have we been spotted?”

“Negative, Trident.”

“Thank you, LT,” I said as I pulled on my helmet, “gather the Strikers and the Heavies, things are going to get real hairy once we get to the surface. We cannot land in the capital as we can assume the Trade Federation has already seized it. We’ll have to land outside the city and work our way into the royal palace, but you know as well as I do that we’ll have to use the Destroyer’s mantra to get away with this.”

“Yeah,” she said heavily, “you can’t kill an idea.”

“Not a chance,” I said with a grin underneath my helmet, “come on, it’s time to make landfall.”

“Actually, sir,” Captain’s voice flickered into my helmet, “it looks like there’s only a small garrison in Theed, most of the invasion force… Well, it looks like they’ve landed on the  _ wrong side  _ of the planet,” she was obviously baffled. I blinked once and then twice before responding to that.

“The  _ wrong side  _ of the  _ planet?!”  _ I couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes,” she said, sounding just as confused as I was, “we probably have a day to work out a strategy to extract the Queen.”

“Then I want it done in six hours,” I said easily.

“Right away, sir,” LT said with her own salute before dashing off to the Fist’s command deck. I felt the ship buck underneath me before the inertial dampers kicked in as we darted toward the planet’s surface, hopefully to a nice abandoned field.

**XXX**

“Well, it really is the jewel of the midrim,” Golem said more to himself than anyone else as we exited the ship’s hanger on our speeder bikes and I couldn’t help but agree, especially as I felt like I could run to Theed and keep up with the crew on the speeders. I felt incredible, energized,  _ powerful  _ and I had no idea why.

“We can talk about it later,” LT barked as she kicked her bike into gear, the heavies in their own little attack shuttle, “right now we have a queen to get out of here before the bolt brains manage to get her to do their bidding.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, LT,” I said into the radio as I pushed my speeder to its top speed, the sound of the gunship humming right behind us. They were under orders to stop five miles outside of the city and to wait for us to return with the queen but there were a pair of Heavies riding in Golem and Oak’s speeders. Golem was piloting the gunship.

“Approaching Theed quickly, Trident,” Oak said from his place in the extraction ship. It was designed to carry a lot of people and be  _ fast.  _ The shuttle was almost as well protected as our zero-G tank while being as fast as the new Actis starfighters we have in the hangar, the only problem with it? It has  _ no  _ weapons whatsoever and is a bitch to fly, only Captain and Oak have managed to get the damn thing off the ground without hurting themselves.

“Golem, you know the plan?”

“Come into the city guns blazing when you give the order, Trident,” he said and I could feel his grin, “then let the Heavies loose on the droids.”

“Said it in one, Golem,” I grinned, “Hotshot, what’s your objective?”

“Distractions and explosions,” she said and I could almost  _ feel  _ her evil grin.

“Mission objective?”

“Extract the queen,” Captain said promptly.

“Secondary?”

“Get her retinue out!” came from Oak.

“Tertiary?”

“Don’t interfere with anyone helping with the mission,” LT’s voice said last.

“Excellent, let’s do this,” I said, “I’ll get the queen. LT and Phantom will be backing me up. Heavies? You guys get those EMP charges set to go and take out as many of those clankers as you can.”

“Yessir!” Both of them barked into their newly acquired handheld radios. They may be shit for stealth but every Mando knows how to hide at least a little bit.

“Then let’s do this,” I said, stopping my bike as we jumped into the air and over the newly built wall. 

We started our jog down the street and I couldn’t believe there were no battle droids anywhere in sight. I looked back at Phantom and nodded. Immediately, he turned invisible and I just had to shake my head. He may be mute but his chameleon tech was incredible. Unfortunately, he could only make one as the tech to operate the system connected directly to his nervous system and none of us except Phantom were keen to have that tech inserted into us.

LT and I slipped into a shadow and watched Phantom move into the palace from a camera he integrated into his visor. Now, we have a way to hear each other and see what the others see, this is how the team found me when we captured the Actis fighters. I couldn’t help but grin as LT and I moved in on his position.

“I will not cooperate,” I heard as I landed under the window seal where Phantom was just perched.

“Now, now, your Highness,” I heard the irritating voice of Nute Gunray say, “In time, the suffering of your people will persuade you to see our point of view. Commander?”

“What is the meaning of this?” I heard dad ask and I immediately snapped my eyes over to Phantom’s feed one more time to watch as Dad strolled in flanked by battle droids.

“Ah, Governor Vizsla! How good of you to join us!” Gunray said once again, “you will be interred with the good queen here, perhaps your negotiations will flourish there?” he said with a sickening smirk but I held my position. Extracting them from the Throne Room would be hell. “Commander, process them.”

“Yes sir!” the robotic voice of the battle droid said, “take them to camp four.”

“Roger roger,” a group of battle droids said as they surrounded the queen, her retinue, and dad all at once and frog-marched them out of the royal palace.

_ “Captain to Trident, we have eyes on Jetti. Repeat we have eyes on a pair of Jetti Knights, what are our orders?” _

“Shit,” I hissed, Jedi here of all places, “where are they, Cap?”

“Enroute to the palace courtyard, potentially to intercept our mark,” she said quietly and I hissed again.

“Intercept and inform them of the situation, we’ll get the queen and the Vizsla. Trident, over and out,” I said as I pressed my fingers to my helmet, growling but also halfway relieved. If those EMPS went off properly then we won’t have to put up much of a fight  _ and  _ we can potentially fool the Federation. I tapped my helmet once again as we moved toward the courtyard, “Trident to Hotshot, over.”

“Hotshot here, what’s the status Trident?”

“ _ Jetti _ in the area but I have a job for you…”

**XXX**

**With Obi-Wan…**

“Master,” I said quietly, feeling a shift in the Force.

“I felt it too, Padawan. Lightsaber ready, nothing must interfere with our mission…”

“Yes, master,” I said, pulling my lightsaber from my belt. I was about to say something else when a familiar sight dropped from above us with their hands raised but I still lifted my lightsaber.

“What business do you have here, Mandalorian?” Master Qui Gon asked as heatedly as I’ve ever heard him.

“To extract the Vizsla and the Queen, and we’re getting paid handsomely to do it,” the female voice said from under the helmet.

“I thought the Mandalorians were peaceful after the revolution,” I sneered slightly only to be cut off by master Qui Gon.

“ _ We have no species or bloodline—so we can rebuild our ranks with others who want to join us. We're more than just a people or an army. We're a culture. We're an idea. And you can't kill ideas, _ ” the woman said, sending a chill down my spine, “the words of one of our most revered leaders. And you’d best to remember it,  _ Jetti.  _ Do not interfere with what is about to happen or we will be forced to use force against you.” I stayed stone-faced, not believing that they could really hurt us - but master looked troubled.

“And you believe you can defeat us?” The woman remained silent as she turned to look down at the courtyard where the queen was surrounded by battle droids and marched up the plaza.

“Master we have to help her!” I said as the useless Gungan finally made his appearance known.

“Whosa you!?” the only response he got was a blaster bolt to the face. I could only stare at the smoking blaster and the corpse laying on the ground with shock.

“You killed him!” I barked at the woman who had turned to watch the procession in silence.

“He was a liability and I was ordered to deal with him, so I did,” she said coldly even as a pulse of blue light washed over the courtyard as twenty Mandalorian soldiers fell to the ground to surround the queen.

“Queen Amidala, Governor Vizsla, I am Trident,” a warrior in a black bodysuit under dark grey, almost black armor decorated with a much richer blue paint than the rest of his fellows said,  _ ‘the leader,’  _ I thought to myself, only a bit nervously. “We have an extraction vehicle prepared for you and the battle droids leading to it have been disabled but we must hurry,” he said confidently.

“The Royal hanger is closer,” the queen argued back but the Mandalorian cut her argument off as the other warriors started a march in the direction the battle droids had already been taking them.

“It is but it is also full of Battle droids and being closely monitored, although we have an idea to get around that,” the leader said as he looked up to where we were standing, “Captain,” he called up.

“The Jetti are right here, Trident,” the woman called back down.

“And that blasted Gungan?” he bit out.

“Dealt with,” I couldn’t help but gawk at the cold efficiency of these people. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice master Qui Gon moving toward me until he was right at my side.

“Look at his hip, Padawan, tell me what you see,” he whispered and my eyes locked on the man’s belt and widened at the familiar shapes.  _ ‘Where in the Galaxy did he get lightsabers!?’  _ Was my only thought before the Mandalorian jumped off the bridge and fell in step with the group.

The man at the head of the column looked up at us and called: “Well  _ Jetti _ , are you going to join us or stand there staring?”

I looked at master Qui Gon who could only nod in resignation to jump off the bridge, which we did. 

“Get the Droid’s weapons!” I heard a voice call out and saw it was only the captain of the guard speaking to his soldiers about the fallen battle droids.

“Yessir!” The men said and promptly fell in with the Mandalorians to create an even larger perimeter around the Queen.

“Alright, people,” the Head Mandalorian said, “hold the line!” Immediately, the sound of engines could be heard and a pair of ships sailed directly toward our position. 

**XXX**

**With Percy…**

“Good job, Golem,” I said into my radio as I watched the gunship cover our rear as the escape shuttle landed in front of us, I turned back to the Queen, her Retinue, and father, “load up! Go, go, go!” I said, waving them into the shuttle.

“We must make contact with the Republic,” the older Jedi said before he too boarded the shuttle.

“Our communications have been disabled,” an older man with a mustache said to the Jetti Padawab standing there like an idiot and his master on the shuttle, “you’ll have to get off-planet!”

“And it looks like we’re your only hope of that, Auretti,” I growled to the Padwan while prodding him toward the shuttle none too kindly. He scowled slightly and got on the ship anyway as the queen and a single one of her handmaidens stood there defiantly.

“This is  _ my  _ planet,” the queen said, not as confident as she probably thought she was, “I refuse to leave my people!”

“You have to live for your people,” I said with my visor facing the handmaiden who I  _ know  _ is the actual queen, “they can’t kill you if you’re off-world.”

“I agree,” the old master said, surprising the hell out of me, “if you are beyond the reach of the Federation then we can bring this evidence against the Trade Federation to the Senate. They are well beyond the reach of the laws of the Republic with their actions here,” he said as his Padawan turned around to look at him like a fish out of water.

“Master! These people-”

“Are helping the queen and people of Naboo, even if they killed the thrice-damned Gungan,” he said with a small frown. I saw dad hold back a chuckle, if it were up to him the damned things would have been exterminated  _ years  _ ago after running into a few on Coruscant, “be silent and let us get to safety.”

“Yes, master,” the guy had to be in his mid-twenties but he sounded more petulant than any of our children but he boarded the shuttle anyway. The only people not on the Shuttle were the Heavies, myself, and the Queen and Double.

“We’ll take the gunship,” I said, “it’s better defended even if this is faster, take off Oak!” I called and immediately the ship slipped up into the air and blasted away like a blaster bolt.

“Queen Amidala, let’s stop playing these double games,” I said quietly, addressing the unmade up woman, “I know you want to stay with your people but the Federation is going to make you do whatever they want and you will suffer some sort of horrible accident. There will be a touching funeral, a great turn out, but you’ll be dead and Naboo will be  _ much  _ worse off. I suggest you get in the Gunship and make a strategic retreat,” I said quietly, I hate talking to her like this but it has to be done.

“Fine,” she hissed, getting as close to my helmet as she could “but if my people suffer because of my inaction I will hold you personally responsible,” she whipped around with my heavies looking on at me in real shock as Hotshot finally dropped into the courtyard.

“It’s done, boss,” she said and I could feel the grin in her tone.

“Good, let’s get back to the Fist,” I said as I clambered into the gunship with Hotshot right on my heels and surprisingly an Astromech droid wheeling itself toward us as fast as it could.

“Artoo? I thought you were in the hanger?” Hotshot asked, genuinely surprised. The little robot squeaked and beeped to its little heart’s content as Hotshot just sighed exasperatedly, “fine, Trident needs a new Astromech anyway,” she said and I could feel the smirk.

“Hotshot,” I growled, “what’d you do to Ceefive?”

“Well, I wasn’t about to use my own droid or the Naboo’s droids to do what I needed and Ceefive was available, think of this as me replacing the droid!” I just tried to massage my forehead through my helmet, I failed miserably but whatever.

“I  _ liked  _ that droid, Hotshot!” I said as we climbed onto the gunship with the rest of the Heavies and the Queens.

“I’m sorry,” the painted one said quietly, “what do you mean and who are you?” 

“Hotshot, nice to meet ya,” she said, “oh, it was  _ all  _ Trident here’s idea,” if her helmet wasn’t on I knew she’d be sporting her signature evil grin, “We needed a distraction to get off the planet and well, I hope you aren’t too attached to that Yacht I found in the hanger because Ceefive stopped transmitting like two seconds ago.”

“My  _ yacht!”  _ The unpainted queen yelped, “how did you get it out of the hanger!? The only way to get it to take off is by inputting the Royal codes!”

“Ceefive _was,”_ I shot at Hotshot, “a _very_ good slicer droid,” I said a bit bitterly as I knelt down in front of the droid in front of me that was beeping excitedly.

“He says that he is too,” Hotshot said.

“We’ll see about that,” I growled but patted the R series on the dome anyway.

“You said you had another ship,” the unpainted queen said, “what kind of ship?”

“A Marauder Class corvette, it’s fast, heavily armed, and best of all it has a great hanger.”

“Why would you need a hanger in a corvette?” She asked, confused.

“Classified, but you’ll see when we get there anyway,” I said back with a smirk, “speaking of which… Golem! How long until we get back to the ship!?” 

“Right now, Trident!” I heard him call back and watched as the doors slid open to reveal the hanger on board the Fist.

“Queen Amidala, welcome aboard the Fist of Mandalore,” I waved my hand to the hanger and stepped out of the gunship, watching as a crew moved in to get the speeder bikes out of the area dedicated to holding them.

“Impressive,” the unpainted queen said, “Trident, perhaps you would show us to your command deck?”

“Of course, follow me,” I said with a grin, not that she could see it.


	8. Who Lives in Deception

“I’m sorry,” the fake queen said with derision clear in her voice, “you want to go to Tatooine for parts when my people are suffering?!” 

“Want to?” I shot back, “our flight plan was always to go to Tatooine. In fact, if we hadn’t heard that the Governor was in the system without a decent defense force we would have been there already, lucky for you he didn’t!”

“And how did you hear that?” Dad asked with fake anger, we all have to play a part after all.

“Just had to listen in to the Galactic Holo to hear about the historic meeting between Naboo and Mandalore and who would be meeting to figure out you were coming here, Vizsla. The fact that the Duchess is still the Duchess says everything I need to know about what your security forces are like. The Naboo are pretty much at peace besides that pesky cold war with the Gungans,” I said with a wave of my hand, “but we’re Mandalorians! Not pacifists,” I slammed my fist down onto the holoprojector - my crush gauntlets tucked handily into my belt so I didn’t split the table in two.

“Whatever your opinions may be,” dad said with his nose in the air, “the Queen is correct, we should go to Coruscant to confer with the Senator and present Naboo’s case to the Galactic Senate!”

“We would have to go by way of Tatooine anyway,” Captain added in from her place near the galactic map with our current location, “the Federation has blockades from Naboo through the Triellus and up the Hydian to prevent the Queen from getting more than a few hours away from Naboo and are deadset on never letting her get to Coruscant.”

“But no one world dare checkpoint the Corellian run since it leads right to Hutt space and you would have to deal with the Corellian Navy,” Hotshot said with her arms folded, even the Jedi Master couldn’t argue with that.

“And the Corellian run leads right to Coruscant,” the Padawan said grudgingly as he traced a Galactic map, “but Tatooine is still off course by a fair margin.”

“A few hours delay at best,” LT said, “we’re after one hyperdrive unit, maybe more. Why do you think we took a few hundred gallons of water into the ballast tanks and the cargo hold?”

“I cannot think of a reason,” the master said, “just as I cannot think of a reason as to why non-Jedi are carrying Lightsabers?” he asked and I instantly knew the point behind the question.

“We are not Sith and we are not Jedi,” I responded to the underlying question, “however, the Sith are cancer and have taken advantage of Mandalore too many times. We will take them down should they ever rise again.”

“You are not Force-sensitive and the Sith have been destroyed for thousands of years,” the apprentice scoffed, “but if you were Force Sensitive then the council would have found you.”

“I think you’ll find that the Jedi and Mandalore have a quietly hostile relationship,” I growled and the master flushed slightly.

“It is true that we have avoided Mandalore in recent years,” he said slowly as every Mandalorian on deck scoffed.

“Recent? The Jedi Order has not set foot on our mother world under terms of peace since the fall of the Old Republic,” I said, the Jedi bowed his head deeper as the apprentice looked on, stunned speechless.

“We were there Nine Sixty-Three after the Reformation!” the Apprentice said, slightly outraged.

“I meant at their own leisure, Padawan, not at the request of the Duchess and Council,” I said before something clicked, “wait, you’re the Jetti that screwed the Duchess?!” I remember Bo Katan telling me about hearing them through the walls, even at a young age she knew what sex was, “Obi-Wan, wasn’t it?” I asked the now heavily blushing man whose Master was pinning him with the coldest glare I thought a Jedi could give.

“We will discuss this later, Padawan,” the master growled before looking back to me, “I assume this trip to Tatooine will be purely for business purposes?”

“Yes, it will be,” I said, already thinking of how I was going to screw with Watto.

“Then we will assent to this trip, Trident,” he said, “but I would like to examine your lightsabers for defects,” I nearly recoiled but he soothed my nerves with his next words, “this is not a question of your skills or if you did indeed make them, this is for your safety. A defective lightsaber is a truly terrible thing,” his face was grim as he said that. I grudgingly handed over my two lightsabers, much to the surprise of the rest of my Strikers. “Marvellous craftsmanship,” the master muttered as he spun the lightsaber in his hands, letting the shoto hang in midair, “the Force is strong with you, Trident.”

“It’s strong with all of us,” I spat back as he activated the blade, only mildly surprised by the crossguard.

“Which forms do you know?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Jar’Kai, Djem So, and Soresu are my preferred forms, but I have been called an expert in Makashi,” I said even though I knew all seven forms. The master just raised his eyebrow as the apprentice looked stunned.

“An interesting combination, young man. And how did you learn these?” 

“Travel and holocrons I stumbled on. There are thousands of the things scattered across the Galaxy,” I said offhandedly and it’s all true. I may have learned from Revan, Tarre, and Kallig but the holocrons have been a major help and it’s not like the council would find them all anyway but the two Jedi’s eyes both widened all the same.

“Thousands!” Obi-Wan exclaimed as the rest of the command bridge, minus the Strikers, looked confused. After all, my Strikers were very familiar with those holocrons but to the rest of the galaxy they’re possibly one of the most obscure topics there ever was. I couldn’t teach the Strikers everything so I handed them off to the spirits of the ancient Jedi and ‘Grey Knights,’ (as they liked to call themselves) before letting them use Sith holocrons. They may be terrible people but they are excellent combat masters.

“Yes, is that an issue?”

“Yes!” Obi-Wan said like it should have been obvious, “there are thousands of Holocrons spread throughout the galaxy when they should be in the-”

“Enough, Padawan,” Qui Gon growled, oh I really was starting to like this Jedi. He turned to look at me apologetically, “please excuse my Padawan, he was - and still may be - out of line.”

“Master!” he tried plaintively, “those Holocrons-”

“Obi-Wan!” Qui Gon turned on the Padawan and I could tell every Mandalorian was trying not to laugh while the Naboo looked like they were shocked a Padawan would disobey his master like Obi-Wan just did. What was worse was that Obi-Wan had violated a tenant of the Order and it was dragged into the light of day.

“When will we arrive at Tatooine?” The painted queen asked quietly.

“In roughly three standard hours,” LT said firmly, “feel free to roam the ship but I ask you not to enter the barracks or private cabins that have not been assigned to you.”

“Of course,” the painted queen said, “although when this conversation is finished I would like to speak to Trident privately.”

“That can be arranged,” we locked eyes - well visor to eyes - and I nodded to the unpainted Queen standing behind the painted Queen.

“Very well, is there anything else that needs to be discussed? No? Very well. Strikers remain behind with the Queen and Master Jinn,” I said as everyone but the people I asked to stay, the Queen’s handmaidens, her head guard, the Obi-Wan, dad, and the Pilot stayed behind.

“May I ask why I have been asked to stay?” the Jedi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I believe you wished to examine our lightsabers,” I said with a small grin under my helmet.

“Ah, yes!” he said as he ran his hand over my lightsaber once again, taking it off the table, “a fine weapon. I must say, crossguards are not common among the Jedi order anymore but they are a fine addition to any lightsaber. Though my old master would deride your choice to use a Shoto alongside a blade… Perhaps he would even deride the quillons,” he said lightly amused, that held up until he actually activated the shoto, “how interesting,” he murmured, spinning the lightsaber but was obviously uncomfortable with how short it was, “a lightsaber dagger... These are not spoken of within the order but the workmanship is solid and the crafting that went into it is remarkable, it is solid and safe.” He floated my shoto back to me as he took the saber in hand.

“This saber is truly fascinating,” his eyes lit up seeing the blade erupt from the emitter as he manipulated the toggles, “length modification and safety settings - which are?” he looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Sparring, full intensity, and full safety,” I said calmly, “it’s a wonderful setting that lets me lock the saber in an inactive mode so I’m protected in particularly... shall we say difficult situations, with the strangely distinctive addition of acting like a normal flashlight. The quillons are always locked in sparring mode with no way to increase their intensity though, no need to cut myself on a crossguard but I also like my hands where they are,” I shrugged slightly as he looked up at me in surprise, immediately changing the lightsaber to its flashlight setting.

“I believe I will bring this discovery to the council for the younglings,” he whispered, and I nodded my agreement, there was no reason to keep kids away from a discovery that could keep them from getting hurt.

“Of course,” he smiled slightly as he floated my lightsaber back to me. 

“I’m not giving up my lightsaber,” Hotshot growled as she put her hand over her saber’s holster protectively. I wear mine on my belt since the crossguard saber couldn’t fit in the holsters that sit on the side of our right thighs - just behind our pistol holsters. They give the rest of the team easy access to their blades while still being out of the way (of drawing pistols and in general). LT didn’t say a word as she passed her Saber over to the man as the rest of the occupants on deck just watched as the Jedi took apart the saber and put it back together.

“It’s a remarkable blade, very well crafted,” he said as he activated the emerald blade, “and a good length. A blade I would be happy to use,” He passed the saber back with a smile and she sheathed it without a word. Phantom was next as he sent his black hilted blade toward the Master Jedi who caught it easily, “solid, a bit heavier than what I would prefer but it’s a well fashioned hilt,” he said as he activated the near silent, white blade, making Jinn nearly drop it, “now this was unexpected,” he muttered to himself before looking at Phantom and asking, “a purified Ghostfire crystal?”

Phantom only nodded as he reached out for his saber that a visibly stunned Jinn had already started floating back. Julius caught it with ease as Oak sent his saber across the room with the Force. Qui Gon disassembled the weapon with a frown but put it back together and activated the blue blade all the same.

“It’s in working order but that crystal worries me... The blade is immensely powerful but it’s unstable,” the master said, “it could fail you one day, though it will reactivate in time - time that could cost you your life.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Oak said blandly - getting a frown from Jinn - as he clipped the saber back to his belt, “Cap? You up?” he asked as he turned to the girl standing with her arms crossed. She just sighed and handed it off, her inspection going without a hitch.

“Golem,” I said to the big guy that was hesitating as Cap got her green bladed lightsaber back. He handed Jinn his lightsaber stiffly but the inspection was every bit as fast as Cap’s.

“It is quite similar to your friend’s,” Qui Gon said as he went through a few basic positions with the cheerfully humming, blue blade, “a firm, dependable lightsaber. Keep it in top working order and it will serve you well,” Golem just nodded as he replaced the blade in his holster.

“Hotshot,” I growled to the stubborn redhead who was standing with her arms crossed, doing the best she can to glare underneath her helmet.

“I told you, Trident,” she growled, “no one touches my lightsaber, especially not some Jetti,” she spat.

“And I told you, you follow orders or face the consequences,” I snapped back at her.

“Y-you wouldn’t!” she stammered, her already pale skin probably ghostly underneath her body glove.

“No, because that would be punishing Golem,” I said with a glare toward the girl, “but as soon as this mess with the Trade Federation is over, I’ll have you swimming laps until you fucking die on Naboo.”

“Swimming?” she scoffed, “come on Tri, you can do better than that.”

“In full armor, without your jetpack, of course. But, then again, your Heavy armor doesn’t have one anyway,” I shot back. Immediately, the lightsaber was almost flung through the air in her haste to make sure that didn’t happen. I could only smirk at that, just had to know the right buttons to press with her. Hotshot loved a rush but hated monotonous, strenuous activity - in other words? Hotshot hated exercise.

Master Jinn apparently thought it was funny while Obi-Wan just scowled. Soon enough, Qui Gon had the lightsaber torn down to pieces but was frowning heavily as he inspected them.

“The energy cell in this lightsaber is flawed…” he said quietly before he noticed something else, “and that would be why,” he looked up at Hotshot, “you use a standard power cell with a Dragite Crystal?” 

“What about it, Jetti?” she sneered but I could hear her concern.

“If you keep using this underpowered cell then the lightsaber will fail you… Quite spectacularly, I may add. There is every possibility you could lose your hand in the process. By the looks of it,” he said while spinning the components around him, “this will happen sooner rather than later. If you have a stronger cell, by perhaps a quarter - something similar to what Oak is using, perhaps - then your lightsaber will be functional until well after we join with the Force. And quite possibly the strongest lightsaber I’ve ever seen,” he said with a small smile, I nodded and waved Hotshot to go on to the Striker’s workshop. It’s not a huge room, just a cabin converted to storing random odds and ends and some spare weaponry. She nodded and hustled off the command deck after she took the normally blue bladed Lightsaber back from the Jedi master.

“Thank you, Master Jedi,” I said to the man who simply nodded and walked off the command deck with his Padawan in tow, already furiously whispering to the younger man, “Strikers, you’re free to go.”

The Strikers looked around at each other and then at me, I nodded at them and they finally went to move off deck.

“Captain Panaka,” the unpainted Queen said, getting a look of surprise from the Captain, “you are free to leave as well.”

“My queen,” he saluted the girl hesitantly and turned to walk away as her handmaidens all shifted around uncomfortably.

“Would you like to carry on this conversation elsewhere?” I asked her, she nodded slowly, “then I suppose I’ll be needing to escort Queen Amidala and her Handmaidens to her quarters and their barracks for the trip,” I grinned under my helm as I reached out to take the Painted Queen’s arm.

“History has been made,” the unpainted queen smirked as the painted queen said that, “a Mandalorian Crusader and a Queen of Naboo walking arm in arm? I don’t think the Galaxy has ever seen such a sight.”

I was about to reply but before I could the door sprung open and she fell into step with the rest of the Handmaidens and actual Queen trailing us.

It was a rather quick trip to get to the Queen’s quarters and as soon as we entered the Painted Queen immediately set to stripping down and removing her makeup, I quirked an eyebrow but turned to the Unpainted Queen.

“Padme, is it not?” I asked quietly as I punched the button to reveal a more spacious bedroom than the attached barracks, this is usually dad’s room when he’s on board with the Five but it also works for a Queen and her Handmaidens.

“It is,” she said, “I feel I have been remiss in my duties,” her brown eyes dimmed slightly as she said that, “although it would seem that we all have. If it were not for you and your team, my people would be at the mercy of the Trade Federation. I must ask that your business on Tatooine finishes as fast as you can manage it, my people are my first priority,” her eyes were glistening as she said that.

After a second of hesitation, I put my hand on her shoulder, “they’ll be okay, Padme,” I said quietly.

“How do you know that!?” She snapped, batting my hand away, “how could you possibly know what those monsters are going to do?”

“They’ll be okay because of what I ordered Hotshot to do.”

XXX

With Hotshot…

Earlier…

Naboo…

“Jetti in the area but I have a job for you,” Tri’s voice came through the intercom.

“And that would be?”

“Launch the Queen’s transport anyway possible but I want you to leave behind a message for the Viceroy. If he does anything and a Naboo dies then I will hunt down all his co-conspirators and execute one for each of the Naboo that died at his orders, if he runs out of compatriots then he will bear the brunt of the execution but it won’t be as painless as a blaster bolt to the head. Explain to him what we do to Traitors,” Trident said viciously, making my eyes bug slightly.

“You can’t be serious? The Blood Banshee?” I whispered back.

“The Blood Banshee,” he confirmed coldly. “Make sure to give him the graphic details on how I’ll rip his lungs from his back after cutting him open… And while I’m thinking about it, tell him how it got the name.”

“Got it, you want that on a Holorecorder?”

“That would be brilliant, Hotshot,” I could almost feel Trident’s vicious grin, “make sure you have a message programmed that it should only be opened by the Viceroy.”

“Alright, I’ll meet you at the dropship. Hotshot, out,” I said, already on the move toward the hanger but tapping my helmet again, “Golem?”

“Yeah, Hotshot?” the voice of my lover came through the radio.

“What droid are you flying with now?”

“Uh, Ceefive… Why?” he asked nervously.

“Perfect, I’m going to need to borrow him.”

XXX

Present…

On the Fist…

“And tell me,” the Queen asked curiously, “just what is this bloody banshee?”

“You really want the answer to that?” I asked quietly.

“I am a Queen,” she said, stepping closer to me with fire blazing in her eyes, “whatever atrocities you can come up with, I can handle.”

“Alright then,” I answered, impressed by the Queen’s spunk. I pulled my beskad from where it was settled underneath my Jetpack and handed it (handle first) to the queen. She took it with a raised eyebrow, “that blade has seen three Blood Banshees already, three traitors that needed to be dealt with. It is said a Mandalorian is scared of three things: being declared Dar’manda, a bar without beer, and the Bloody Banshee. The Blood Banshee started in the early days of Corellia and some Mandalorians, those who have roots on Corellia, brought the technique over. The traitor is given one choice and one choice alone, scream or be silent,” her eyes widened at the words as I took the dagger back from her, “the man is strapped, nailed, or tied to a beam - or cross - to secure them in place,” I said quietly, feeling myself shiver slightly at the memories before steeling myself, “then... then the victim’s back is slit down the spine,” she gasped slightly and I could only chuckle darkly, “it gets so much worse… After his back is flayed and the skin is spread, the victim has their ribs separated in order to gain access to their chest cavity. When the procedure is finished, the victim resembles a bloodied Corellian Banshee and his scream sounds almost exactly like the call of the bird.”

“That’s barbaric,” she whispered but looked out of the portal in the private room, watching the stars blur past, “yet... fitting…” she was silent for a few moments before turning back to me with beskar in her eyes. “If this deterrent works then Naboo will be in your debt.” 

I couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, “Queen Amidala, keep this up and I may have to get you your own set of armor,” I grinned but she obviously couldn’t see it.

“I am the Queen of the Naboo, I do not wear armor,” she said with her nose in the air.

“Perhaps,” I said, “yet both you and I know that it could only help during this... unforeseen complication.”

“Mayhaps,” Padme said a bit quizzically but turned back to the portal all the same, obviously deep in thought.

“We’ll be on Tatooine, shortly,” I said to her, “you can join us or you can stay on board once we reach the planet.”

“Trident,” I heard as I turned around to walk out of the room, I stopped and looked at the woman over my shoulder.

“Yes, Queen Amidala?” I asked calmly.

“Call me Padme, Perseus,” she said, turning back to the window. I snapped around to look at her, my eyes wide with slight panic. She stood facing the window calmly as if nothing was wrong.

“How?” I growled out.

“I have a perfect memory when it comes to faces and voices, I’ll let you play this little game out since you saved my life. I didn’t realize where I heard your voice until I was onboard, it was from the -admittedly few- holos your duchess sent for me to familiarize myself with my guests. You also don’t do anything to hide your height, it was obvious when you stood next to your father since you’re the same height he is. When you weren’t with Governor Vizsla in the throne room, I realized that I had requested you come on this mission as well, yet you were nowhere to be found. Strange, is it not?” she said as she turned around, her brown eyes sparkling with a bit of amusement mixed with curiosity, “though, I’m surprised your father allows this?”

“Damn you, woman,” I said quietly, knowing exactly what she was thinking as I pulled off my helmet.

“If you’re going to insult me at least make it worth my while, Mandalorian,” she said, stepping closer to me, “I hear those three words at least a hundred times a day, I may be one of the most popular queens in Naboo’s history but I am not without enemies,” our eyes locked and I saw all her emotions there. Amusement, fear, anger, “but why, by the waves, are you armored? I was under the impression that the Mandalorians were a peaceful people now.”

I snorted in slight derision, “we’ve been neutered, you mean? No, Queen Amidala, the Mandalorians, the true Mandalorians of blood and Beskar, will never give up on our heritage.”

“Even if that heritage is war and death?” she asked sharply, I met her cold brown eyes and chuckled without humor.

“War and death?” I asked, looking down at the helmet in my arms, “yeah, maybe… But to my people, if we die fighting then we’re rewarded in the next life. A man whose life was dedicated to the blaster and blade but didn’t fall in combat will be just as rewarded. He who lays down his arms when his people are endangered is condemned to our hell,” I looked back at her softening eyes.

“On Naboo,” she started slowly, “our religion is based on the water. We believe we came from the water and, like the sea, we should be peaceful. When we gather with our ancestors in the court of water and moons then we will be ready for eternal peace.” I nodded slowly.

“It’s a beautiful image, Queen Amidala, though water can kill you just as easily as a blaster bolt. Water hates to be restrained, it’s violent, angry… The sea can be peaceful but it’s rage is terrifying,” she looked slightly taken aback by the quiet statement but I went on. “Mandalore was forged in war and hardened in blood, we do our ancestors a disservice if we don’t take up our arms to defend the next generation of warriors. We like to fight, love it actually,” I said quietly as I looked out the portal, “it’s in our blood. I’m sure you know of nature versus nurture and genetic traits?”

“I do,” she said quietly.

“So did an Aldeeranian about twenty years ago, he decided he wanted to see what made Mandalorians tick, so he managed to find a volunteer. Many volunteers in fact,” I said as I turned back to her, leaning on the wall carelessly, “what he found was that native-born Mandalorians had faster reaction times, stronger muscles, and their adrenal glands were about twice what you would find in any other human in the galaxy. Natural selection made sure that Mandalorians were in fact bred for war,” I said quietly. Padme’s eyes were wide at the realization, “we love a fight because it’s literally in our blood.”

“I understand,” she said quietly, “but perhaps you should be getting ready for the trip to the surface?”

I nodded and pulled my helmet back on, “perhaps. We’ll speak again, highness,” I said with a smirk that she couldn’t see as I left the room.

XXX

“Status report, Perseus,” dad said quietly as I closed the door to his room.

“Just under three hours to Tatooine, the Queen was extracted from the planet with no casualties, and there are two damned Jetti onboard my ship,” I hissed in frustration. Mandalorians and Jedi were practically oil and water, “but there is a bright side to this,” I said thoughtfully after calming down.

Dad just raised his eyebrow at me, “explain.”

“If we can get Death Watch into the good graces of the Nubian Queen then we have a platform we can use to bring the Old Way back and get a solid blow at the Pacifists. I still can’t believe we have the Duchess’ Jetti lover on board,” I said with a shit-eating grin, my helmet already off as I looked at dad.

“A most unexpected development indeed,” he said with a frown, “Bo Katan gave you this information?”

“Bo Katan, the Palace servants, a guard,” I said counting off on my fingers, “there’s a lot who knew except for his master apparently,” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes but frowned all the same, “I think Master Qui Gon could be made an ally, he does not act like a Jetti of old.”

“No, he does not. Befriend him and I will do the same, your first priority is to get close to the queen.”

“Which one?” I asked casually as I sat down with my whetstone and Beskad until I looked up at dad who actually looked surprised.

“Pardon?”

“Oh,” I blushed a bit before grinning, “yeah, the real Queen is the headstrong handmaiden. The dressed up one is a decoy,” I ran the stone down my blade as dad tapped his chin.

“Not unexpected, although I find myself surprised that the Nubian Queen would stoop to such deception,” he said.

“HK would have seen right through it,” I said with a small glare. Dad bristled up at the mention of the infuriating hunter-killer droid.

“I thought I had ordered that damned droid slagged!?” he bit out.

“Close enough,” I shrugged, “you sent him to Mustafar to kill someone or other with the prototype fortress shuttle equipped with a Hyperdrive.”

“When was this?” he asked with a frown.

“Uh, dad, you ordered that a month ago,” I said as I stood up from honing the Beskad, sheathing it with the ease of practice as I stepped up to the porthole.

“Yes, yes, of course. The price of governance,” he massaged his temple and sat down on his own bed.

“Then why do you want to be Mand’alor?” I asked quietly.

“You know as well as I do why I wish for that Ancestors forsaken title,” he growled, “the pacifists have destroyed our culture, our way of life! My son, you are a member of Death Watch and the leader of the Strikers, what would you have me do?” he asked heavily.

“I’d have you keep doing what we’re doing. Keep massing weapons and forging armor, Mandalore needs a strong leader more than ever. But if I can get an alliance with the queen…” I tapped my chin as an idea hit me but before I could voice it my comms went off.

“Statement: Master, I have eliminated the pesky Rodian, amused query: would you like me to bring you his head?”

“Negative, HK,” I said into my wrist communicator, grabbing my helmet from the chair and donning it so I could listen to him and dad wouldn’t have to hear the droid, “burn it, toss it in the lava river, I don’t give a damn what you do, but listen up, alright?”

“Answer: Yes, master. Query: what is it you require of me? Hopeful excitement: Do I get to kill more meatbags?”

“Possibly,” I said with a smirk, “get me everything you can about the Trade Federation off the Galactic Holo and then dig even deeper.”

“Exasperation: If I could sigh, master, I would. Expletive: I am a kriffing Hunter Killer droid, not a databank, master! Damn you! Resignation: I have accessed all files pertinent to the Trade Federation and oh… Interested Observation: it appears that their main data vault and droid control center is on Mustafar… Hopeful Query: can I infiltrate this facility, master? I believe I can gain you access to the Battle droids orbiting Naboo. Hopeful Aside: And I can potentially kill some meatbags!” 

“Permission granted, HK,” I said quickly.

“Resigned Query: Are standard rules of engagement required, master? Clarification: Do not kill unless fired upon?”

“Not at all, HK. Fuck up their shit and get me control of those droids, no matter what you have to do.”

“Joyous Celebratory Exclamation: Master, you are the greatest master I have ever served. Fett never allowed me to kill an entire compound before! Thoughtful Aside: Must prepare weapons… Closing Statement: I shall contact you when the assault is complete, Master. Goodbye.”

And with that, the commlink went dead in my ear as I took my helmet off. I finally noticed dad’s lifted eyebrow.

“The blasted droid has not yet been scrapped, I take it?”

“No, but he may finally be somewhat useful, by your definition that is,” I said with a grin as I ran down what the droid did and was planning to do, much to dad’s shock.

“Perhaps I was too harsh on the droid…” he said thoughtfully, “I still dislike you bringing us to Tatooine, my son. You are aware of my relation to Jabba.”

“I am,” I said flatly, “but if we get the interceptors fully operational before we have to return to Naboo then we’ll have one more advantage against the Trade Federation. I don’t expect to keep control over these battle droids for more than a standard month, HK’s good but he’s not a Slicer and we both know it. But if we can wrestle control from the Federation for even a week then the Naboo will stand a much better chance at fighting against them. They have a full-fledged army and we have, what? Two dozen heavies, thirty standard fighters, and the Strikers?”

“Don’t forget about the two Jetti you invited aboard,” Dad sneered, I just took off my helmet so he could see me roll my eyes as I tucked it under my arm.

“And what was I supposed to do?” I asked exasperatedly, “leave them on the surface? I can see that going great on the holo: ‘Mandalorian Imposters kidnap queen and leave two Republic Ambassadors in the hands of the Trade Federation. After careful investigation, it appears Republic ambassadors Qui Gon Jinn and his Padawan were killed by the same people who kidnapped the Queen and her entourage!’ Because that’s exactly how we need to be portrayed right now!”

“You will not speak to me that way, Perseus Vizsla. I understand you are upset and that you were backed into a corner but those are Jetti! Qui Gon Jinn seems to be a good man but his Padawan is completely indoctrinated,” he said coldly as he stared me down. I let out an explosive sigh and put my head in my hand.

“Yeah, and to make things worse?” I said quietly, still looking at the floor, “the Queen knows who I am.”

“How?” he snapped as he jumped to his feet, ”You did not tell her, of that I am certain. How did she discover you?” Dad asked quickly, his voice wavering slightly as he paced back andforth.

“She has a perfect recollection of faces and voices to pair with names, she reads people unlike anyone else I’ve ever seen. She also realized that I wasn’t on Naboo or onboard this ship when I was supposed to be a part of the negotiations,” I said heavily, “but she’s passionate enough to be one of us.”

“You believe we could indoctrinate her into Death Watch?” Dad stopped pacing as he looked at me curiously. I hesitated for a solid minute, frowning out at the blue lines of hyperspace trying to come up with an answer. 

“No,” I said quietly, finally looking back at him, “but I think we can get her in armor and a helmet if we give it enough time. If all goes well, we may be able to provide the Naboo with the promised Beskar with bodies inside it… If all goes well and we earn her trust this may be a new first step toward our heritage,” I said all this slowly but dad’s eyes had already lit up at the idea.

“You have an idea then?” 

“I do, but you’re not going to like it.”


	9. And Deals Naught but Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Tatooine

“You! Getta outta my shop!” 

“Is that any way to greet an old friend, Watto?” I asked with a broad grin that he definitely couldn’t see behind my helmet. We’ve been on world for about an hour, the Jedi didn’t want to be here anymore than the Queen did but at least she understood why we were here.

“Yous a good custa-ma, Tri’ent, ba’ ya always,  _ always,  _ bri’g me trouble!” Watto shot back as Phantom, LT, and I walked through the door of the rundown little shop.

“Bantha shit,” I scoffed, “you made half a million wupiupi the last time I was here!”

“Eight thousand peggat, Mandalorian,” the Toydarian growled, “enough ta recoup my losses with Jabba, no muh, no less!”

“What the hell did you lose!?” I asked. We had only met once before but it was to get a shield generator for the Fist, thing still works like a charm. Worth every credit I had on me when I went to buy it - not that Watto knew that.

“What did I lose? What did I  _ lose _ !?” The Toydarian practically screamed, “I los’ da shield generata’ and because I sold ta  _ you  _ Jabba decided to tax me even heavier dan usual! My slaves have been a workin’ like crazy eva’ since, ya bastahd!”

“How is that my fault!?” I asked, utterly flabbergasted, “no, nevermind,” I said while closing my eyes and wishing I hadn’t even come in today, “I’m here for a hyperdrive, and I’ll pay you in water for it.” 

The Toydarian leaned across the counter, obviously interested despite himself. “Oh? ‘Ow much wata’?”

“That depends on if you have the hyperdrive I need,” I said coolly.

“You makin’ dis harda’ on me dan it has to be, Mando,” he shot back, “what’s da drive ya lookin’ for?”

“A GBk-585 unit,” I said, the Toydarian leaned back while stroking his chin slowly.

“Ani!” he called over his shoulder, “go get one uh da fighta’ hypadrive we got las’ week!” 

“Yes, Watto!” a kid’s voice called from the back of the shop as the Jedi Master and Padme walked in the store. I nearly facepalmed, I thought the Queen was going to stay in the ship and only the Ancestors knew why the Jedi was here.

“Whadda you want?” Watto growled slightly, “can’t ya see I’m workin’ wit’ somebady?”

“Indeed,” Qui Gon said calmly, “we are with them,” he said indicating our group, making the Toydarian roll his eyes with a growled:

“Ah course ya are,” before he turned back to me, “this hypadrive  _ is  _ pretty cheap, Mando. But in wata’ it’ll cost ya… Say, sev’n hundred gallons?”

“That’s bantha shit and you know it,” I growled, loosening my blaster in its holster, “try and cheat me again and I’ll take it up with Jabba. You have two slaves, don’t you? I’ll give you three hundred gallons for the hyperdrive  _ if  _ you have the proper one here - intact and fully operational.”

“Fi’ hundred,” he growled.

“Three and a half and that’s the best you’ll get from me, Toydarian.”

“If I may,” Qui Gon said quietly, getting my attention and the Toydarian’s.

“No,” I said quickly, “water’s gold on this world, sir. And your republic credits will get you about as far as the ship you brought did - in other words? Nowhere.”

“Understood,” the unflappable master said evenly, “I’ll remain silent.”

“Thank you. Now, where were we, Watto?”

“Six and a ‘alf,” he said quickly.

“Two twenty just for that insult,” I snapped back.

“Now yous insultin’ me, Mando!”

“Less than you insulted me, bug,” I shot back, leaning across the counter.

“Ohhh, you a dead Mando… T’ree hundred?”

“Two seventy-five, for this first one,” I said, his eyes sparkling in slight confusion, “two fifty for any others you have.” the Toydarian scratched his chin slightly as the unflappable Jedi Master turned to look at the small, sandy blonde dragging a repulsor lift with the hyperdrive unit on it. 

“Here it is, Watto.”

“Watch da store, Skywalka’, me dwana no bata!”

“Yes, Watto,” the boy said with a slight eyeroll as he walked over to a droid. I don’t know what it is but there’s something off about the kid, I let my eyes stay on him for a beat before I turn back to the hyperdrive. I let my HUD run a diagnostic on it but can’t help my grin at the sight, the hyperdrive is in better than perfect condition and is ready for installation.

“I’ll take it for two eighty, how many others do you have?”

“Nine,” he says grumpily.

“I’ll take six of them for the same price if you transport them. Meet me at my ship and I’ll transfer you the water. Have the hyperdrives ready for me then,” I said easily, Watto nodded in acceptance.

“Skywalkah!” he bellowed over his shoulder, “Ge’ six of da otha’ hypadrives li’ dis one!” 

“Yes Watto,” the kid grumbled and stalked out back as the Jedi master eyed him oddly... Meh, probably the same thing I felt.

“Ani will help ya and ya cargo back to ya ship,” Watto said, “it’ll get tha horrid boy away fra’ me for ah’ least a few hour’,” he muttered under his breath and buzzed away. I sighed knowing there was no way out of it.

“That boy was a slave?” Padme whispered as she slid beside me. I just nodded slowly in reply, the look on her face said everything she was too classy to say out loud.

After that we fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence waiting on the kid to come back. Thankfully, he got back rather quickly with six new hyperdrives all on repulsor lifts. The kid’s eyes immediately locked on Padme and I just rolled my eyes, like hell an enslaved kid could get the queen of Naboo.

“So, when are we leaving?” the kid asked the Jedi, thinking he was in charge.

“Right now,” I growled. The kid just glanced at me, scoffed, and looked back at the Jedi.

“I didn’t ask you, bounty hunter, I asked the Jedi,” I felt my anger swirl in my chest slightly,  _ ‘bounty hunter?  _ Bounty hunter?!  _ This Sand Rat has the audacity to call  _ me,  _ the heir of Clan Vizsla and second in command of Death Watch, a mere  _ Bounty Hunter?!’

“Bounty hunter?” I asked quietly, out of the side of my HUD I saw Phantom and LT both stiffened at the tone. They knew if all too well, that was the ‘ _ the commander is fucking pissed, run for your lives!’  _ tone. “Let me tell you  _ exactly  _ who I am, you damned sand rat-”

“Don’t call me that!” he snapped, cutting me off as his blonde hair swirling like the sand around us. I growled but he just carried on, “my name is Anakin and I’m a person!”

“I don’t care what you are, you will speak to me with more respect or I’ll have to pay Watto more for making you into a grease stain,” I barked at him. His eyes narrowed as he just scoffed.

“You wouldn’t dare, a bounty hunter can’t afford a pilot-mechanic.”

“Good thing I’m no bounty hunter then,” I snarled.

“Enough, Trident,” Padme said quietly, laying her hand on my bicep. I looked down at her incredulously as her brown eyes met my visor. She nodded slowly before looking at the sand rat and tearing into him, “and you too, Anakin. Don’t push him.” Anakin looked at his feet for a second before pushing past me with the hyperdrives in tow. I glanced at Padme who was following the brat with her eyes with a frown on her face.

“Doesn’t act like a slave, does he?” I asked lowly. Padme’s lips pursed even further as the kid disappeared out of the door.

**XXX**

“Woah! It’s so big!” the kid said as he looked at the Fist, I rolled my eyes as Phantom fiddled with the hilt of his lightsaber, LT loosened her blaster in her holster once again, and someone muttered  _ that’s what she said.. _ . Okay, that last bit  _ may  _ have been me but all three of us were being driven insane by the little shit, “what’s it run?”

“Forty vestal virgins and a side dish of none of your damn business,” I growled. I actually had to blink as I thought about what I just said,  _ ‘okay, what the  _ hell  _ are Vestal Virgins and where did the thought even come from?”  _ I asked myself as the kid just turned to look at the Jedi instead.

“I am unsure,” Jinn said, getting a raised eyebrow from the kid, “though I’m confident it is not run by these… Vestal virgins, as Trident so aptly put it.” I grinned as the Jedi master looked slightly flustered.

“But it  _ has  _ to be your ship! Jedi get  _ all  _ the cool things,” he said confidently.

“It’s  _ my  _ ship,” I hissed at the annoying little shit, “now just shut up, put the hyperdrives onboard, and  _ leave _ .”

“I can’t leave, there’s a sandstorm’s blowing in,” he said with a self-confident smirk. I whipped my head around and, sure enough, there was the mother of all sandstorms blowing in from the east. Quickly. Like, it would be on us in minutes, quickly.

“Get those hyperdrives onboard, now!” I roared, taking Padme in my arms and launched myself toward the ship. I saw Phantom pick up Jinn and do the same even as (and I winced as I realized it) LT got the little shit. The repulsor sleds homing in on Skywalker easily and quickly, in seconds we had the hyperdrives onboard the ship with the rest of our little crew, “are you okay?” I asked the girl in my arms. She nodded with a small blush.

“Yes, but if you could put me down?” I smirked slightly but did as she asked, “thank you, Trident.”

_ “Fuck you, Trident!”  _ I heard LT scream in Mando’a from across the bay,  _ “if you  _ ever  _ put me in a position where I have to carry that disgusting, piece of Mythosaur shit, Sand Rat bastard again I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you!”  _ I winced at that, knowing she was entirely serious. I’d seen her do it before, gruesome business but it worked out.

_ “You could have left him, A! I almost wished you had, damn it!” _

_ “Then we would have had to hear him bitch about it until the storm passed!” _

_ “We could always lock him in the brig,”  _ I snapped back and Ayla threw her head back as she laughed.

“What did she say?” Padme asked quietly as LT walked toward her interceptor and a group of heavies brought the hyperdrives in seconds before I felt the ship rock. I looked out the hangar door and saw a wall of sand trying to get inside the ray shield but failed miserably. I just sighed and looked back down at the beautiful queen.

“It’s better you don’t know,” I scratched the back of my head slightly and she nodded but turned to look at something.

“What’s he doing?” she asked quietly, I raised an eyebrow but followed her line of sight only to see the sand rat bolting over to one of the Talon-fighters.

“What is this?” he asked excitedly before bouncing off to the cordoned-off section of the hanger reserved specifically for the Strikers. I smirked as he was intercepted by a Heavy before he could go any further but that all went wrong with a wave of his hand. My eyes widened as the guard turned away without another word and the sand rat bolted straight for  _ my  _ Actis. After a short beat to register what  _ the fuck _ just happened, the Jetti and I bolted over to my interceptor as fast as we could to stop the Sand Rat from causing anymore headaches. Thankfully, LT had already started orders to get the hyperdrives off the repulsor lifts and for the engineers to start working on squeezing as much thrust out of them as possible. 

“What the  _ hell  _ do you think you’re doing, Sand Rat!?” I barked at the nuisance named Skywalker.

“I wanted to see the ships! Now leave me alone!” he said, waving his hand again - never looking at me.

“That doesn’t work on us, Sand Rat,” I said with an edge in my voice, the kid whirled around and his eyes actually bugged as he saw I was unaffected and reaching for my beskad.

“Trident,” Qui Gon said calmly, “I understand you are frustrated, angry even. But violence is not the correct answer to the boy’s actions.”

“Then what is,  _ Jetti?  _ Because if you don’t give me a  _ damn  _ good answer, I’ll send Watto payment for services lost and a smoking  _ corpse _ !” the kid finally understood what kind of danger he was in as he tried to start to edge away from us, “oh no,” I said, forcing him up by his own blood, “you’re staying right there.”

“Let him go, Trident!” Qui Gon said heatedly, not understanding how I could pick the kid up without even raising a hand. I glared at him and focused on the slight amount of acid in the sand rat’s stomach. I held that steady and let the arrogant ass fall. The boy fell to his face like a ragdoll… If a ragdoll could vomit and cry in pain. I almost felt regret for letting my anger get the best of me. I looked down at my fist and clenched it as the boy kept retching.

“Get him out of here or I’ll kill him, Master Jinn,” I said quietly, looking up at the pensieve Jedi Master. The Jedi nodded and took the boy’s arm, pulling him to his feet, and dragged him out of the hangar - assumedly toward his cabin as I watched the paralyzed engineers, “well? Get to work!” I barked and immediately the hangar exploded into a flurry of activity. I saw Padme staring at me in what looked like a mixture of fear and confusion, I didn’t even give her a second glance as I turned on heel and walked off the deck.

I needed to meditate.

**XXX**

**Later…**

“You mean to tell me this damn sand storm won’t roll out for a couple of  _ days?”  _ I asked the Fist’s pilot incredulously. I took a few hours to meditate but I could still feel my anger, feel the dark side, thrumming in my ears. I would have sighed if I were anywhere but on deck, I try to stay in the light but damn it the dark just feels so  _ good. _

“Yessir,” the captain said as he examined his instruments and pulled me from my thoughts, “it appears to be that way. On the bright side? That should be plenty of time to install the hyperdrives you secured, ad‘alor [1]. Then we can be off to Coruscant.” He turned back to me with a grin that I almost returned.

“Finally, some good news,” I joked. The Captain grinned even wider and opened his mouth to say something but, of course, that’s when the alarms went off.

“What’s happening?” I demanded of the pilot who had spun back to examine the instruments, but the alert had already been thrown up on screen.

“Sir!” a voice from the back of the bridge called as I examined the report and felt the dark side clawing to take control again, “it appears that the life support systems have been damaged, critically!”

“How the  _ fuck  _ are our life support systems critically damaged?” I roared, donning my helmet and following the crew of Heavies, astromechs, and engineers to our life support systems which also housed the shielding array.

We got there and saw something that almost made me hemorrhage.

Anakin  _ fucking  _ Skywalker standing in front of the smoking life control system while he  _ tinkered  _ with what looked like the shielding array.

“What did you  _ do  _ to my ship!?” I bellowed at the kid who didn’t even look up from his place on the floor, enraging me that much more. “If I say the word,” I told my troops in a deadly cold voice, “you’ll open fire on this little shit. As it is, restrain him and toss him in the brig. Watto will want to know before I execute him.”

_ That  _ got the kid to whirl around with wide eyes, “you wouldn’t kill me!”

“I wouldn’t?” I asked in a fake confused voice before I smacked my visor with the palm of my hand, “you’re right!” he swelled up slightly but I walked closer to him as I drew my beskad, and placed the razor-sharp blade at his throat, “I’d cut you into tiny, little, bloody bits before I thought about granting you the  _ mercy  _ of death,” I hissed before I turned away from the little shit, letting the heavies that just marched in do their jobs.

_ “Me'copaani mhi at ti adiik, ad‘alor _ ?” [what should we do with the boy, sir?] The Heavy holding the squirming kid asked. Anakin froze at the unfamiliar language but glared at me with rage filled eyes all the same.

“ _ Ibac naasad adiik, ibac ‘uur cuun are’u. Ibic ‘uur kaysh borarir, _ ” [that’s no boy, that’s our enemy. This is his work] was all I said back to the man, nodding toward the life support system. Every heavy in the room looked at the life support system and tensed up, the one holding the Sand Rat’s entire demeanor changed in a heartbeat as soon as he laid eyes on the machine.

“You…” he growled at the now terrified kid, “pray that the  _ ad‘alor _ gets you first, he will have mercy. I will not.”

And with that, a pair of Mandalorians frog marched the pleading, squirming Sand Rat from the Life Control systems and toward the brig.

“How long will it take to fix this?” I asked heavily, pulling my helmet off.

“I don’t know, sir,” a female engineer said as she looked at the life support systems. I’ll have a team working on it around the clock. I’ll give you my report every evening.”

“Acceptable,” I said quietly, “finish it in three days and I’ll increase your pay by a quarter, permanently, and your team will get a twenty percent raise. A week and that pay raise will be twenty percent for you and five for your team, under two and you get the five percent raise while your team gets nothing. I’m sure you know what happens after two weeks?”

_ “Elek, ad‘alor _ ,” she said quietly, already scanning the machine and barking orders into a microphone on her collar.

“Oh, and Lieutenant?” I said casually, turning my head back to her, “finish it in a week or less and you won’t be a Lieutenant anymore - the same goes if you take longer than a month to finish.”

“ _ Elek, ad‘alor, _ ” she said more hurriedly, her eyes blazing with determination. I chuckled slightly as I walked away from what could be a potentially catastrophic situation and donned my helmet one more time, the dark side screaming to be let go.  _ ‘Maybe I need to find the Jedi…’  _ I shuddered at the thought as I walked into the hallway.

**XXX**

**Nine Days Later…**

“Excellent,” I said to the woman standing over my desk, “you’ve done well.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said proudly, her chest puffed out and eyes blazing with excitement.

“I’m impressed that you finished it so fast. When you told me the extent of the damage after the third day, I was expecting the repairs to take at least three weeks. I don’t know how you managed to motivate your team, Lieutenant, but I am most impressed.”

“Sir, thank you, sir!” she said again. I waved my hand at the brunette in an obvious move for dismissal. She hesitated slightly but turned on her heel and marched for the door.

“Oh,” she stopped as she reached the door at my voice, “and consider your pay raise active. And the one for your team as well, Commander.” Her eyes widened at the unexpected promotion, after all she was just a lieutenant and two ranks away from a command post that wasn’t due for another five or six years and she earned it in just over a week, “ _ elek, ad’alor _ ,” she said quietly.

“ _ Ba'gedet'ye, al'verde _ ,” [you’re welcome, commander] I said back with a smile that she couldn’t see under my helmet. She left the room after a crisp salute and smile on her face as I leaned back further into my chair with a heavy sigh. That damned Sand Rat may have cost us a week and some change on this hellhole but since the storm only broke  _ yesterday  _ we weren’t out too much time. Not to mention that there were a few bright sides to being stranded. First of all, I was able to get the screaming of the dark side out of my head with help from Qui-Gon whenever he wasn’t training his padawan. Secondly? Hotshot got to see the Boonta Eve Classic. She adores Podracing for some strange reason I couldn’t fathom, but I found it far better to leave her to her quirks than listen to her bitch about what I kept her from. The damned event is apparently the largest pod-race in the galaxy and she would have wanted to stay for it anyway.

_ “Boss?”  _ speak of the devil…  _ “we have a situation,”  _ Hotshot said over the radio.

“What kind of situation?” I asked, already calling all the Strikers to the hanger as I strode out of the bridge, Hotshot wouldn’t have called in unless it was earth shaking news.

_ “Short, blonde, and thought you’d killed it. The Sand Rat is racing.” _

“He’s  _ what!?”  _ I barked into the comms, my anger radiating off of me and into the Force, I felt the dark rising and squashed it ruthlessly. I closed my eyes and took a shuddering breath but my blood was still up, “never mind, we’ll be there in two minutes, tops. I’ll kill that damned sand rat and those thrice-damned,  _ Jetti  _ myself!”

“And why am I marked for death?” the serene voice of master Jinn called from my left, I whirled around to see him standing there as confused as I was.

“Where’s your Padawan?” I snapped, the Jedi looked confused so I started explaining, “the Sand Rat’s at the Boonta Eve, he was a level three prisoner meaning he was under some of my best guards. No one should have been able to get him out, unless they were a Jedi. My people are good, but not that good yet,” I grudgingly admitted. “I spoke to Watto who relinquished the slave to me, he didn’t want Jabba’s wrath coming down on his head with my own. If you want the kid, take him. If he dies in this thing? Even better for me, but he  _ will  _ be confined to the ship for the duration that he’s aboard  _ my ship.” _

“Understood,” the man said with a smirk, “shall we go find the wayward youngling then?”

“We lost the Sand Rat? How the bloody hell did that happen?” Golem’s unmistakable voice called as his towering figure made itself known.

“I didn’t want to torture you six by guarding the little cunt,” I said to him as the rest of the team joined us, “so I assigned that duty to the ‘alor’s retinue onboard.”

“Ah,” Golem said as he crossed his arms over his chest, “we’re taking the speeders?”

“Yes.” 

“Good thing I launched them already,” Cap’s voice called from over my shoulder as she, LT, and Oak walked into the hangar in perfect formation while Phantom flickered into existence next to Golem.

“Launch another,” I said, glancing at the Jedi. Cap didn’t have to do anything, just nod to where the six jumpbikes were sitting in launch position.

“Impressive speeders,” the Jedi said, walking over to the farthest speeder. I nodded approvingly, tossing him a helmet as I took the closest bike.

“Brace yourself,” I told the Jedi, “these are meant to interface with a helmet, jetpack, and magboots. Not bare hands and the Force but we don’t have much equipment to spare.”

“I will manage. Thank you, Trident,” the man said in his calm as ever demeanor as he slipped the helmet on and strapped himself to the bike’s back.

“Hotshot,” I barked into my helmet, turning to face the desert again.

_ “Yeah?” _

“Get armored, we’re coming in hot.”

_ “One step ahead of you, boss,”  _ she said into the comms before she started cheering for blood with the rest of the crowd. I grumbled and cut the connection, turning to give a nod to the engineers. With a wave of one’s hand, a man across the hangar threw a lever - starting the Electromagnetic Launch System (EmLS for short). I felt my magboots engage while the ejection system locked in my jetpack, if the bike crashed - or one was imminent - then the system would launch me sky high and act as a rocket-powered parachute. Before I knew it, the seven of us were off like blaster bolts. The EmLS was based on the Shatter gun principle, using an electromagnetic field to launch the jump bikes at ludicrous speeds. We shot out of the hangar at just over the speed of sound, much to the Jedi’s displeasure. Thankfully, he didn’t voice his annoyance as we rocketed to Mos Espa, praying that the slave  _ would  _ actually die so that he would finally be out of my hair.

Two minutes later and we were at Mos Espa’s gates only to be stopped by Hutt enforcers.

“Halt! Mos Espa is closed by order of his greatness, Jabba! If you do not possess tickets for the Boonta Eve Classic, turn back or face certain death!” a Nikto male called out.

I raised my hand and dismounted from my speeder, “I do not possess tickets, but I am here on business with Watto the Todaryian. He and I closed a deal over a slave but we have been stranded in the desert so I do not have the little bastard’s remote. He entered the Boonta Eve without my consent, the Sand Rat’s name is Anakin Skywalker of Tatooine,” I called out, not liking the fact that I essentially bought a slave even if it was Watto trying to prevent the Hutts from coming down on his head.

“Ah, yes, I am aware of the human. I was under the impression he was still Watto’s slave as he is racing the Toydarian’s pod,” the Nikto said with an edge in his voice.

“He’s doing  _ what!?” _ I barked at the Nikto standing in front of me, he narrowed his eyes underneath his helmet.

“You did not know?”

“No! The little bastard’s been in lockup for over a week! He destroyed my life support systems and I thought I could swindle the Jedi Council by selling him off to them, or at least make their lives hell by dumping him with them.” I barked, not missing Qui Gon’s raised eyebrow. The Nitko relaxed immediately but glanced at the Jedi.

“A worthy attempt, Mandalorian. Yet, the Great Jabba’s orders still stand. If you do not own a ticket you shall have to wait until the race is completed. Should your helms be linked to the Galactic Holo, I believe the live stream is connected to channel Arkanis-Tatooine-Espa-Nine.”

I just grunted and waved my hand at the guy, turning back to my strikers and noticing with a small smirk that Phantom and his bike had disappeared.

“ _ Nuhaatyc, me'bana? _ ” [Phantom, what’s happening?”] my HUD flashed for a second as Phantom’s video feed was pushed over my viewscreen. I growled as I saw that he had launched his drone to find and track the Sand Rat. The race was in lap three and toward the end of the race at that, “so he’s not dead yet,” I muttered as I watched him jockey for a few meters of ground.

“How, in the name of the ancestors, is he dodging the Dug?” Golem voiced the question we were all thinking.

“I have no idea,” Oak answered, just as pissed at the little shit as the rest of us were. We all watched in disbelief as the sandrat not only passed the dug but made him crash in a ball of fire and parts. I narrowed my eyes as the bastard raced across the finish line.

“He won?” LT asked, completely baffled.

“The son of a bitch did it,” I growled as the Nikto brought his wrist up to his mouth and listened to something being said. He nodded and stepped apart, raising his spear in an obvious signal.

“Mos Espa is now open to the public, by the order of his greatness and grace, Jabba!” the Nitko proclaimed as we anchored the bikes and launched skyward. The Jedi, since he didn’t have a jetpack, just walked into the city as fast as he could as we hurtled toward the stands and the other two of our comrades. As we approached the raceway, I saw Hotshot’s distinctive armor race skyward toward us while Phantom appeared on my HUD before flickering to life beside me. Together, we landed at the near-empty starting lane, pistols drawn as we surrounded the Sand Rat propped up on the Padawan’s shoulders.

“Disperse,” I barked to the crowd through a small voco-modulator in my helmet, it didn’t do anything besides amplify my voice but it sure was handy for times like this. “Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are to come back to the Fist of Mandalore with us. Skywalker, you have wronged us too many times for this to stand. You were being held in good faith but you are now my prisoner for true. Padawan Kenobi, you have aided in the escape of a slave assumedly for sport and your own entertainment. Further, you have assisted in thievery from a shopkeep of this planet. Any winnings you have won from this bloodsport shall be transferred to him, your master agrees to these terms and I remand you to him for your punishment.”

“Indeed, I do,” Master Jinn said as he strolled out of the crowd easily, “you will stand before the Council for this, Padawan. I had thought you were ready for knighthood, perhaps I should reconsider,” he said coldly. I nodded approvingly as Obi-Wan took on a pained expression while Anakin was nearly panicking from behind a woman.

“This is your son?” I asked the woman quietly. She nodded at me as I glared at the Padawan again, “then I shall see you are freed, you will have what little time you can with him.  _ My child, my life. _ ”

“My child, my life,” Captain and LT murmured to themselves but I heard it clearly through the radios.

“Thank you,” she said, falling to her knees as her pained expression slacked in that small amount of relief.

“What is the meaning of this?” I heard an amplified protocol droid’s voice come from the top booth. I turned to see Jabba’s enraged face but it quickly turned into one of surprise, “Son of Death’s Head,” I heard the voice of his protocol droid call from next to him, “what business do you have with this slave?”

“A debt owed,” I called back. The Hutt didn’t look happy but nodded all the same.

“Then go, return only if you must.”

“I would have left a week ago, mighty Jabba. The boy is the reason I remain here. He single-handedly sabotaged my ship’s life support unit badly enough that it took a team of my best until just today to finish the repairs,” I called back to the Hutt who looked completely taken aback.

“Aboard the  _ Fury and Fear?”  _ I could tell the slug was pissed but the protocol droid just couldn’t convey that rage.

“That was the name you had for her, aye,” I called back to the Hutt in a flat tone.

“Do with the boy as you please, in my eyes his life is forfeit,” I glanced at the ghostly pale Sand Rat who was trembling in his mother’s arms, “but if you kill him, I ask you to make it quick. He was an excellent pilot. If you do not, he is no longer welcome on this planet - it is henceforth barred from him. Begone within the hour.”

“Now do you see why I didn’t want you sticking your nose around, Sand Rat?” I asked the kid as Jabba turned around to leave, “I bought that ship off of  _ that  _ particular Hutt. He upgraded it and made it one of his ships, but it was never his favorite,” I hissed.

The boy said nothing, just nodding as I looked to the Strikers, “execute  _ Shuk’la Buy’ce  _ protocol. I have a Toydarian to negotiate with,” I growled, “and take the Sand Rat with you.”

“Bounty hunters? Why would we have to deal with them?” Hotshot asked.

“They’ll want our ship for themselves since they know it was one of Jabba’s,” I growled lowly into the radio unit. The six stiffened immediately, they all knew that anything once belonging to the Hutts was pretty much open season for Bounty Hunters.

“We’ll set up the Turbolasers and point systems, immediately,” LT said as she took to the sky, the rest of the crew following her except for Phantom who was effectively my personal shadow while Oak and Golem stayed grounded, escorting the nuisance and his mother back to the ship.

**XXX**

“Whada’ya- You! I thought I told ya to stay outta me shop!” Watto howled as I stepped into the small, dusty area.

“You did, I’m here for two things. The Sand Rat’s remote and his mother’s,” Watto’s eyes bugged but he slid the remote to me easily.

“You not gettin’ two slaves from me, Mando! You haven’t even paid for da’ hypadrives!” 

“And whose fault is that? I have the payment ready but I’m not dragging it back here for your sorry ass, get a water truck if you want that water. Or we can call it even with the winnings from the Boonta Eve, the sandrat stole your pod so the winnings are yours by rights. Keep in mind that I  _ could  _ simply compensate you for the loss of your pod… As for Madam Skywalker and if you’d like to think of this as compensation for the water,” I pulled a small, glowing, green crystal from a pouch in my belt and slid it onto the counter.

“Wha’ kinna trash is dis, Mando,” the Toydarian scoffed as he picked up the crystal with a pair of tweezers he had in his toolbelt.

“A kyber crystal,” that was all I had to say for the Toydarian to whip his head up and look at me in horror mixed with a lot more interest but he pushed the crystal away anyway.

“No! I cannah take dis! If a Jedi foun’ me wit’ it, I’d be a dead Toydarian!”

“But if you sell it to Jabba then you can make enough for three slaves and recoup your losses from losing the hyperdrives and the pod if your winnings don’t manage that. On the other hand, if you make the trip to Nar Shaddaa and sell the thing to Grakkus you would be in his favor. Not only that, but you would also make enough to live like a king, for a few days at least.”

“And why is dat, Mando? Betta yet, why ain’t you done did it if it’s so valu’ble?” the Toydarian asked shrewdly.

“Then I’d have to kill the greedy Hutt,” I said, much to the bug’s shock, “he likes collecting Jedi artifacts but he doesn’t have an operational lightsaber - thank the Force. Give him that and he would be a step closer to accomplishing it, but he would never let me go.”

“Grakkus knows who ya are?” the Toydarian asked quietly, I nodded.

“Jabba may have saddled me with the name Neecho, but the rest of the Galaxy knows me as  _ Kyr’am kovid ad’alor _ , the Son of Death’s head. Jabba even called me it today,” I growled and the Toydarian snatched up the crystal on the counter, pushing another remote to me.

“Get outta my shop an’ don’t come back. I don’t need no attention fra’ Jabba o’ any udda Hutt,” he growled, marshaling me out of the door and into the sand.

I turned to where I knew Phantom was, nodded once and took to the sky. Together, we both went to where the speeders were and saw them swarmed by Jawas intent on scrapping them both. I fired off a single blaster bolt in annoyance, dropping one Jawa like a gnat. Together, we landed our feet but I was the only one to ignite my lightsaber.

“Leave,” I hissed at the scavengers. They grabbed their comrade’s body and did just that, scattering like womp rats as they tore off toward their sand crawler, “let’s go, J,” I said quietly to the man behind me as we jumped on our speeders.

**XXX**

**[1] - Child of the Leader**


	10. Demons

“Now that we’re off-world, maybe you can tell me why the  _ fuck  _ you thought it’d be a good idea to - one, steal someone’s pod. Two, trick a Jedi Padawan into breaking you out of a brig aboard a ship crawling with Mandalorians that want you dead, and three: cross me?” I growled at the restrained kid across the table, a force restraining collar cinched around his neck. It was one of the few items I made sure to keep a hold of instead of selling to the greater galaxy, one never knew when one may have to deal with a rogue Jedi or restrain a Sith…  _ ‘Really had to get to work on duplicating them but how?’  _ I thought as the kid looked up at me, still as infuriating as ever.

“I wanted to! I thought since I had my freedom I could get mom free to,” I blinked at that.  _ Huh… The kid can do something moral after all. _

“You realize that you are far from free, right?” I said to the kid, coldly but not as harshly as I had been with him so far, “you’ve been isolated in the brig for a week since you destroyed our life support systems so badly that it took a team of Mandalore’s finest engineers a week to fix it? How you managed that, I’ll never know.”

“That wouldn’t have happened if you had let me finish!” The kid snapped, “I made my own droid, a starship is easy!” I could only blink at the audacity of that comment.

“Kid, you’re ten-”

“I’m eleven!” he spat. I slammed my fist onto the durasteel table, leaving a fist imprint in it as I stood up. 

“You’re a worthless sandrat that I’d happily dump on Malachor V just to prove a fucking point,” I snapped. The kid looked at the table and gulped before he looked back up at me as I carried on even more callously, “Or maybe I’ll drop your worthless ass at the South Pole here, see how long a sand rat can actually live on this hellhole.” The kid’s eyes bulged as I said that.

“No! That would kill me faster than Jabba would!” He said pathetically, he actually was starting to cry. I snorted in disgust and turned from the makeshift interrogation room, the door hissed open and I stepped out - right beside LT and Golem.

“Unbelievable,” Golem muttered as the door slid shut. “He’s an arrogant little shit, isn’t he? Especially for a slave.”

“That’s what worries me, he says he was a slave but I think he just spent his life as a prisoner. His Mother is the real victim here...” Ayla muttered. “And what the hell did he mean when he said he built his own droid?”

“Exactly that,” the big guy said gruffly. I turned to face him and he went on, “I went with Shmi to get a few things from their hut - clothes, pictures, those kinds of things - well, I went into the shit’s room,” he growled and I smirked at the newest nickname for the Fist’s most hated resident, “and apparently the kid actually  _ is  _ a pretty good engineer. He either found most of or built an entire protocol droid from scratch - one his mother  _ definitely  _ couldn’t afford, by the way. He more than likely stole it from Watto, if the Toydarian had found out about it - or worse  _ actually  _ found it? Well… Let’s just say death would have been kinder for Shmi and whatever the Hutts would do to the little Shit doesn’t bring me any pleasure. So, I brought it back! The Shit technically is yours and anything belonging to him is your property. I gave the droid to our engineers since I let Tara borrow Cee-Five, sorry about that again.” He said while rubbing the back of his helmet. “I knew you liked that droid and an R unit could never really replace him.”

“Are you kidding?” I scoffed, “that R series is far and away the best astromech I’ve  _ ever  _ owned. I liked Cee-Five but he was just a standard C series - still don’t quite know how she managed to get him to commit Ancestors condemned suicide.”

“She’s tricky like that,” Ayla said smugly, Golem nearly tripped midstride. I just chuckled darkly.

“Yeah, you can say that again.” I grinned as we walked on to the command bridge. It took a few minutes but we didn’t run into any major interruptions, just picking up the last of the Strikers as we made our way to the bridge. Together, the seven of us marched into the command deck to see the normal hustle and bustle the Fist always ran going smoothly as ever.

“Helmsman? How long to Coruscant?” I called as the rest of the Strikers dispersed out around the bridge.

“Four days, Ad’alor. We’ll be just in time for the Galactic Senate to convene, but we’ll have to be fast. Our scouts are reporting that the Federation has taken the entirety of Naboo hostage. People have been put in labor camps and the death toll is rising, albeit slowly… Current indications are that the Federation is responsible for two-hundred thousand deaths world wide.”

“Not good…” I muttered as I looked out the fore viewscreen. “What are the predictions for the toll in a week’s time?”

“Double current numbers at minimum,” the helmsman said darkly. I sighed but nodded.

“Thank you, Jason. Back to your post,” the helmsman hesitated for a second and opened his mouth one more time.

“Before you leave, sir, you should be aware that we spotted three scouter droids examining the ship briefly before we took off. No scanners or trackers were placed and we are certain that we aren’t being tracked,” the helmsman said. I frowned as I thought about it but shrugged it off.

“Thank you, back to your station,” the man nodded and snapped off a salute as he returned to making his rounds.

“Trident,” a soft voice from behind me called, I lifted my eyebrow under my helm but turned around to see who had called me. To my surprise, Padme was standing in the middle of the bridge in her handsmaiden disguise as she looked at me. “The Queen has requested your presence. I will escort you to her if you so please,” she said as demurely as any real handmaiden with the normal fire I’ve come to expect from her blazing in her brown eyes.

“Of course, Handmaiden Sabe,” I said with a grin that no one could see. I felt a hand brush against my hip and was only slightly surprised to see that LT had practically appeared at my side.

_ “Be careful, Percy,”  _ she said quietly,  _ “we don’t know what she wants. But… If she offers? Break her,”  _ she said and I could  _ hear  _ the smirk in her voice. I smirked too but stepped up beside the queen and took her arm in mine.

“What did she say?” Padme asked quietly.

“Giving me an update,” I said in a similar tone.

“On?”

“The padawan,” I snarled just thinking about the damned jetti as we exited the bridge and turned toward the cabins - it also effectively diverted the conversation from what Ayla actually said.

“Oh? And how is the Padawan?” she asked seriously, stopping in the middle of the corridor and facing me.

“Not here,” I said quietly. “Now, we can go to wherever it was you were taking me before or we can go to my cabin. It’s the most secure location onboard.”

“Are you actually inviting me to your chambers, Trident?” she asked hotly but I could see the light playing in her eyes.

“Maybe, or I could escort you to yours?” I asked as I held my arm out again, smiling broadly under my helmet. The queen snorted and took my arm.

“Yours,” she whispered almost inaudibly.

“As her majesty wishes,” I said just as quietly. She just glanced at me with a small smile on her lips. Together, we walked through the corridors of the ship until we arrived at my cabin. I pressed my hand to the bio-scanner and waited until it opened without another sound. The door was rather simple but the idea behind it was genius. My helmet took a retinal scan while it read my palm print, using my natural electricity to send the retinal scan up my arm and into the scanner. No one could get in without a positive retinal scan and a handprint that was already on file in the system. Without it, I would get an alert that someone was trying to access my room and clamp it down like nothing else on the ship - also handy for when I  _ really  _ wanted privacy. The door sunk into the floor and ceiling and I gestured for the Queen to lead the way. She took a step into the room and raised an eyebrow at the rather spartan cabin, the only things I had on display was an armor rack and a few of my more treasured lightsabers on the wall.

“Where did you get these?” The Queen asked in awe, obviously forgetting about the Padawan as she reached up and almost touched Revan’s blade. I managed to find that gem on Malachor the one and only time I visited that Hades forsaken world and kept it in my cabin just because I could, even the Pit would have been better than that. I felt my focus shift slightly as I felt the memories that most certainly weren’t mine wash over me for a beat but I didn’t let it completely distract me.

“Here and there,” was what I said as I pulled my helmet off and hung it on the rack, using the Force to strip down my armor, sighing in relief as it slipped off, leaving me in my baffleweave jumpsuit. “What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Padme?” I turned and looked at her. She already had her hood pulled down but was standing with her arms over her chest, shuffling on her feet just slightly.

“I… I’m going to need your help when we get to Coruscant,” she said quietly. I frowned but nodded.

“How so?” I asked, gently guiding her to one of the few seats I had and sat opposite of her.

“I need you to stand with me in the Senate Chamber, with Mandalore and Naboo united the Senate will  _ have  _ to listen to us,” she said but still looked slightly unsure. I couldn’t help but smile slightly as I took her hand.

“I’ll try, I promise. But if I can’t, dad - Pre - will stand with you. We’ll make sure that Naboo’s plea is heard.”

“Why?” She asked as she looked at me, her eyes suddenly blazing. Any uncertainty burned away, “why would you help Naboo? I understand wanting to help me, personally, but not my planet,” she snapped.

“One,” I said calmly, “is because I think the Trade Federation is a ridiculous concept that needs to be disbanded. Two, the people of Naboo don’t deserve to suffer for corporate greed. Three,” I said as I took her hands in mine, making her eyes widen slightly, “is because you convinced me that you’re a good Queen the minute you wanted to make sure your people were taken care of above your very life, and I respect that immensely. So, yes, I will stand with you before the Galactic Senate as long as the Jedi don’t hold Trident too long in their blasted circle of bureaucracy,” I growled without any real heat. Padme squeezed my hands gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered as tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “I’m not sure I’m fit to be queen.” She muttered as she looked down into her lap. “I was elected too young, I don’t think I was ready.”

“You’re fit to be queen,” I said with utter confidence, she looked up in surprise as I kept on, “I imagine you’ll continue to be a hell of a good one too. But you were raised on a peaceful planet, you’ve never seen war. You don’t know violence. I can help you there,” I said slowly. This is what dad and I had discussed all those weeks ago, let’s see if it pans out.

“How so?” the queen asked with a lifted brow and slight scowl.

“You’re aware of the docket we had prepared for negotiations, they started at… What was it? A pound of beskar ore for twenty million gallons of water?”

“Four to twenty was what your Duchess said the negotiations would start at,” Padme said with a casual grace reserved for any skilled and practiced negotiator. But I felt my jaw drop at the number.

“She agreed to one pound of beskar for five million gallons of water?!” I barked, making the Queen’s eyebrow climb higher. I stood up and ran my fingers through my hair trying to figure out what to say.

“Indeed, is this an issue?” She asked, I turned back to see that she had stood up but was looking at her perfectly manicured fingernails in an attempt to look disinterested but I could tell she was all in to these discussions.

“Yeah, just a bit,” I growled. “One to twenty is about the lowest we can feasibly go. Beskar, while not uncommon on Concordia, is still a rare ore. We can make a breastplate with four pounds of the ore but I’m not sure why you need it,” I said as I turned to fully face the queen again. “Your starships are coated in Chromium and your guards wear leathers instead of armor… Consider me curious.” Padme looked surprised before she sighed and nodded.

“We were looking to use the ore to make sure our starfighters were more durable if they needed to see combat,” she said quietly, but that just didn’t make sense.

“There’s not much Beskar could do for your ships without weighing them down significantly. Chromium is strong enough to protect your ships while still being remarkably light, Beskar is heavy and hard to work… Here’s my offer.” I said but still hesitated slightly.

“I’m listening,” the Queen said, her attention fully on what I was about to say.

“We give you seven to fifty, one suit of armor worth of beskar for fifty million gallons. And I’ll offer you a platoon of my Heavies for thirty million gallons a head, a total of thirty of Mandalore’s finest soldiers,” Padme’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth, closed it, touched her chin, and nodded slowly.

“These Heavies,” she asked deliberately, “would they be loyal to me or to you?”

“To me,” I said with a slightly chagrined smirk, “but they would be there more to train a few of your guards - maybe a hundred of them - to be the best guards you can have on your payroll. You won’t have to worry about another incursion because these troops’ first priority will be to fight like hell and take out enemy commanders and defend your person - though it’s still no match for a true army.” She nodded slowly but her eyes were far away.

“I do not accept your offer as is, Percy,” she said quietly, finally looking over at me. I felt something catch in my throat at the look in her eyes. “Not unless you are part of that Platoon.”

“I… I’m not sure I can do that, Padme,” I managed to wrench out as she stepped closer to me, taking my hands in hers.

“Do you know what your Duchess’ real objective was in sending you, Percy?” Padme asked quietly, “do you know why I was surprised that you weren’t with your father in that throne room?”

“I do not,” I muttered, meeting her brown eyes.

“Satine sent me a personal message on the holo, one that was off record. She said that there was a better way to forge the greatest alliance the galaxy had ever seen and that she was sending the most noble and strong hearted man she knew of. A man named Perseus of House and Clan Vizsla, the son of Concordia’s governor. I scoffed at her, you know,” she said wearily. “I told her that what she was suggesting was insulting but I requested you come on this mission anyway, to prove to myself that you  _ weren’t  _ the man the Duchess said you were… Imagine my surprise when your father walked through that throne room door  _ without  _ you at his side, the noble saviour that the Duchess promised you would be and you were absent. I thought I was going to be tortured by the Federation as they led me, my retinue, and your father out of the throne room. Then men and women in armor out of my worst nightmares swooped in and saved me, with you in command. I recognized your voice the second you introduced yourself,”  _ really need to add a fully fledged vocomodulator to this thing instead of just the amplifier at some point... _ “And I still thought you were nothing more than a bounty hunter, someone looking out for himself over everyone else… And then you proved me right by taking us to Tatooine and insulting that slave, but then that same slave stranded us in the desert, delaying our flight to Coruscant and yet you managed to encourage your engineers to repair the irreparable all because you believed in them. Your strikers follow you because they  _ want  _ to follow you, your men follow you like no one I’ve ever seen…” the queen shook her head and I raised an eyebrow as she looked at me again. “You’re more of a leader than I could have ever hoped to be and you don’t even  _ try.”  _ She said, shaking her head slowly, “I need that support, I need people who can make sure Naboo will be strong. You were right when you said that Water hates to be restrained, Naboo has been restrained by her people, by their pacifism. I need your help if I’m to help lead Naboo to an even greater era of peace.” I nodded slowly as I scrutinized her, trying to figure out if there was a game here.

“What are you offering, Queen Amidala?” I asked carefully.

“I would have you on Naboo, commander of my Palace Guard and, Waters Willing, help me lead my people to a brighter future,” she said quietly.

“Lead your people?” I asked, trying to organize my thoughts and figure out where the hell this conversation was going.

“Yes, maybe not as a King but perhaps an advisor. I need both Trident and Percy at my side if this is going to work,” she said and I felt my eyes widen.

“The warrior and the diplomat,” I chuckled. “You have fire, Padme. I’ll give you that, we could make a Mandalorian out of you yet.”

“Let us not get hasty,” Padme said with a smirk. “But… Perhaps we could make a Nubian out of you.” 

I felt my jaw slacken as the girl looked up at me, her face a beskar mask but her eyes were wavering as if she had made a mistake. The sheer audacity of this girl, no, this woman was astounding. For a beat all I could hear was:  _ I could never forget you. If this mission is what I think it is… Go with the Manda, Percy... _ And I knew what Bo Katan was thinking that day.

_ ‘Bo… Forgive me…’  _ I thought as I met the Queen’s eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.

“Maybe we will. Mandalore is with you, Queen Amidala,” I said with a grin. Instantly, the young Queen’s face broke into a broad smile as she almost blurred forward as she rushed me. She impacted into my chest before looking up at me, our faces less than inches away. Time seemed to stop as she leaned up and took my lips in hers. I placed my hand on her back and waved my hand at the door, activating the secondary layers of security and disabling anything that could interrupt us. After all, I had a Queen to break.

**XXX**

**Coruscant**

I never knew how much a matter of weeks could change a man’s life like the weeks it had been since I left Mandalore… But the past four days had changed nearly everything. I had to announce to basically the entire ship who I actually was, much to dad’s displeasure and Qui Gon’s amusement… The Jedi bastard had already figured it out days ago. But thanks to that, it was easy to concoct a story that I had been rescued by a band of Mandalorian Mercenaries before they saved Dad and Padme. That had been the other thing, Padme had announced our arrangement to her handmaidens and the news spread like wildfire but I was a bit too busy with other matters.

I shook my head at the memory as I walked down the Nighthawk’s gangplank. The Nighthawk was my personal freighter or landing shuttle if there was no good place to land the Fist in its entirety - Coruscant was the definition of that. There was only room for a few people on board the VCX-100 but it was necessary to have a small(er) ship to fit on the Fist’s belly. It wouldn’t fit in the hanger but it could be recessed into the belly with a few design changes to the Marauder class Corvette - which I allowed in a blink. So, here I was on Coruscant in full armor with a copy of myself without armor walking at my side. 

The day before we found ourselves on Coruscant, Padme and I let dad know what the Duchess had intended and that we were going to go through with it, but just not as Satine intended. He didn’t like the idea of me being at the head of the cohort but couldn’t really argue as the Strikers would still be under me and it would be an even better use of the Beskar instead of wasting it by sending it in its raw form. He wasn’t happy about it but he accepted the fact that we had to do this for the alliance.

Anyway. So, I was said to have been in the medbay for those  _ not  _ in the know - aka, Padawan Prick and Slave Sandrat - while a PROXY droid wore my face for the Senate until I could actually make it to the Senate building and was free from the Jedi. I would usually use HK for something like this but right now he was still on Mustafar. So, until I could get in contact with the blasted droid, I had to use one of the untested prototypes I got in the Colonies. I managed to get it off a black market dealer who was trying to get rid of it as fast as possible and I got it for cheap. Usually the droid sat in the hold, completely unused except with a databank full of my life and how I would usually respond to questions in my Civilian guise - hence the fact that there were two of me on the landing pad.

“Trident,” Qui Gon said as he faced me, his Padawan and the Slave each between a pair of Heavies who had them chained and shackled until they could speak to the council, “we are ready to depart.”

“Excellent,” I said in return as I moved toward the speeder he indicated, glancing at Padme in her handmaiden disguise but she wasn’t paying me, or the rest of the world, much mind, at the moment as she watched the Supreme Chancellor walk up to Sabe.

“To the Jedi Temple, if you would,” the Master said to the driver as the rest of our small party loaded onto the speeder. The driver looked back nervously as the rest of the Strikers fanned out behind him with their jetpacks already fired up.

“Y-yes, Master Jinn,” the poor man whimpered. I nodded to him and launched into the air, lightening the load on the speeder and joining my team in the air to provide a bit of security for the speeder while a squad of Heavies were to do the same for the Queen and Governor. What we  _ weren’t  _ expecting was to be met by the Supreme Chancellor and the Nubian Senator.

“Belay that order,” I said as I landed on the pad beside the speeder, wanting to see how this was going to play out with the Senator. I couldn’t explain it but something about him felt…  _ off.  _ Familiar but not in a good way and that was putting me on edge. “‘Alor,” I said into my comms, knowing dad would hear it,  _ “beware the Senator, he’s more than he appears. Unknown factor, he seems to be an anomaly in the Force,”  _ I said in Mandoa as I felt his presence, searching for the force in him but was almost stonewalled by something. I didn’t try again, if he was a Force user he would feel if I tried to tear through those shields but just touching them would be like a feather falling on it.

**“It is a great gift to see you alive, Your Majesty,”** the Senator said pompously for all to hear. **“With the communications breakdown, we've become very concerned. I'm anxious to hear your report on the situation. May I present Supreme Chancellor Valorum.”**

**“Welcome, Your Highness. It's an honor to finally meet you in person,** though I am afraid I do not know you,” the chancellor said as he examined dad critically.

“Pre Vizsla, Governor of Concordia and her grace Satine, the Duchess of Mandalore’s personal representative in the matter. I speak with Mandalore’s voice in the Senate at this time,” Dad said evenly, but confidently. I could have sworn I saw Velorum’s shoulders sag slightly in relief as Palapatine seemed to let off a flare of anger into the Force. I almost took a step back at the sheer intensity of it and narrowed my eyes under my helmet.

_ “Phantom,”  _ I muttered as I took to the skies, waving for the Jedi to go,  _ “keep an eye on the Senator. Potential hostile, initiate protocol Darksaber, Beskar. If he is Sith, make us aware of it immediately. If he’s  _ just  _ a creepy, old bureaucrat, I want to know that too. Keep eyes on him at all times, I want to know when he sleeps, shits, or shows himself to the public. Watch him.” _

As usual, there was no response as Phantom winked out of existence when the Speeder took to the air - bolting toward the Jedi temple. I felt my lips curl in a small, feral grin as I leapt off the platform and poured on the speed, it’s been too long since I was just able to cut loose and fly.

“Master!” HK’s voice rang through my comms as I dodged and weaved through speeders from my position at point, guarding the speeder carrying the old jedi, the padawan, and the sand rat.

“HK?” I asked as a speeder whizzed underneath me, cursing and shouting as if they didn’t recognize just what a Mandalorian Commando was - or what kind of danger they posed.

“Reply: Yes Master. Report: Mission on Mustafar was a resounding success. The Federation is unaware that their main base of operations is completely sabotaged as minimal casualties were inflicted. Excited recapitulation: The Trade Federation is in league to start something known as the Confederacy of Independent Systems, Master. They thought their files and blueprints for their future droid designs would be safe there, I proved that hypothesis incorrect. I have transferred these codes to the  _ Fist of Mandalore,  _ there is a code to deactivate the battle droids over Naboo. Here is the quagmire you now face master. Impressed Statement: These codes cannot be sent remotely, they must be sent from the Lucrehulk command station orbiting the planet.”

“Outstanding,” I muttered darkly, “we could get a ship in but Phantom would have to be the one to infiltrate.”

“Agreement: Indeed master. Concession: Perhaps a well trained pilot with a fast ship could slip through the ship and destroy the lucrehulk itself?”

“Impossible,” I said with a quiet snort. “Well… maybe a Force Sensitive could do it but I wouldn’t want to be the pilot, Ancestors protect the dumb bastard who decided he wanted to try the odds...”

“Statement: There we are agreed, master. Nervous reflection: I do not wish to be made into a scrap pile… Consideration: though perhaps it would be better than being transformed into a protocol droid…”

“I bet it would. Get back to Concordia with those codes HK, I don’t care if they’ve been transmitted to the Fist. I won’t believe they’re real until I see a hard drive with those codes on them.”

“Query: Would it not then be best for me to vector for Coruscant, master?” 

“We’re planning to leave Coruscant tonight - but you know how that’ll go as well as I do, HK - and I plan to be on Naboo in a few days,” I said through my comms, rolling to avoid another rogue speeder. 

“Resignated statement: Master, I can be on Naboo and infiltrate the Lucrehulk battle station before you even exit the deep core… Amused observation: Maybe I will even infiltrate before you escape Coruscant. Exasperated query: What are your commands now?”

I bit my cheek gently as I thought about the droid’s offer before finally deciding. 

“Do it.”

“Yes, Master.”

**XXX**

Thankfully, the rest of the flight to the Jedi Temple was much more… Well, peaceful wasn’t quite the right word on fucking  _ Coruscant  _ but less hectic would be a bit more accurate. Also? Why the hell do the  _ Jedi  _ need a temple you could comfortably house most of Sundari city’s residents in? 

There are what? Ten thousand of them Galaxy wide? What were the rumors again? That they had a room with a thousand fountains? For meditation?! Ancestors, the water could be diverted to better things than just fucking using it as a  _ decoration _ . I shook my head as I glanced down at the speeder knowing that this was going to be an interesting meeting as Qui Gon straight up ignored his Padawan’s pleas while the Sand Rat actually sat in silence - granted that may be because of the hustle and bustle of the City World was something he had just never seen before. It’s times like this I remember that the little shit’s just a kid… A thief, cocksure, and annoying as hell, but still a kid.

As one, the remaining six Strikers fell out of the sky and landed on the landing platform in a semicircle. The Heavies were still positioned around the Padawan and the little Shit but that was expected, these were four of my best guards. Two of them were the ones who had taken the little Shit to the brig when he destroyed the life support systems.

“Welcome,” Qui Gon said with a small smirk as he stepped up next to me, “to the Jedi Temple. We will need to see the Council with all haste, it is not everyday one sees bound men enter the Temple… Would it be possible to unbind them?” he asked quietly. I glanced back to see the Padawan had a very uncomfortable look on his face but the Little Shit just looked awed.

“Tri,” LT growled in a  _ ‘don’t you fucking do it!’  _ tone. I glanced at her and shook my head. I saw her shoulders fall slightly but I looked to the guard commander and nodded. He returned it but didn’t immediately unchain them, instead he reached around his back and took out a pair of familiar collars out from behind his back, tossing one to the Heavy holding the Padawan’s left. He snagged the collar out of midair and clamped it around his throat before a word could be said. The Padawan immediately turned white and almost fell to his knees but the heavies held him upright.

“Wha-What did you do?” he asked weakly as Anakin was fitted with the other collar again.

“Kept you from making a nuisance of yourself,” I growled. “I’m sure you noticed your connection to the force is almost nonexistent? Yes? Good. The collar’s working - oh, and don’t even try to take it off by yourself. It won’t work. Only your guards, my Strikers, or I myself can remove it without doing your connection to the Force serious damage.”

“How… Uncivilized,” Qui Gon muttered, obviously not a fan of the collar cinched around his Padawan’s neck.

“But necessary,” I said with a shrug, “they weren’t easy to find either.”

“And where did you find them?” Qui Gon asked as we started walking between the pillars, Obi-Wan and Anakin unchained but still guarded by the Heavies.

“Somewhere rather uncivilized,” I threw the Master’s words right back in his face and (wonder upon wonders) he even cracked a smile. It took us an hour, a bloody  _ hour,  _ to climb all the stairs, get through the right areas, take the turbolifts, and avoided all the looks we were getting from having ten fully armored Mandalorians in the temple for the first time since we reclaimed the Darksaber.

“Trident,” Qui Gon muttered as we finally approached the Council chamber, “do not enter the chamber until I send for you, do you understand?”

“You want to present your case and explain things, I get it. But your Padawan is the only one going with you,” I growled. The leonine jedi nodded as the doors swung open to my left. 

“Then we will speak again soon,” he said as his blue eyes met my visor. I held out my hand and he took my arm with a nod before turning back to the chamber. I almost hated having to bug him but it was necessary. Just like the radio I gave Padme so she could contact me on a dime if necessary, I tapped a button on my wrist, still leaving Padme’s and Phantom’s channels at full volume but increasing the strength connecting me to the bug as I turned the video feed I had on to watch the proceedings.

“Master Jinn,” a small, strange looking, green alien said, “much to explain you will. Why Mandalorians you brought into the Temple, a mystery in itself, it is.”

“Our mission to Naboo became much more complicated than previously expected. The negotiations with the Federation were short,” Qui Gon said. “Though it seems their military capabilities are… Less than shining. The Federation has set a blockade around the world of Naboo, but it seems that planet Mandalore had already sent a representative for trade.” I felt my lips quirk at the rest of the Council’s stunned expressions.

“And Mandalore,” a dark skinned man beside the little green alien started as he leaned forward in his seat, “has armed itself once again? This council was under the impression that Mandalore was a peaceful planet under their Duchess?” I couldn’t help but smirk as I glanced over at Ayla who I could already tell was exasperated at me just by what she  _ knew  _ I was about to do. I turned on my heel and strolled into the Council chambers like it was home. Qui Gon glowered at me, Obi-Wan cowered from me, and the rest of the Council stared at me like I was the devil himself.

“We have no species or bloodline,” I said as I stood beside Qui Gon with my arms folded over my chest as I scanned the Council chambers for potential threats. But, when in a room chock full of Jedi, everyone’s a threat. “We're more than just a people or an army, aruetii. We're a culture. We're an idea. And you can't kill ideas—but we certainly can kill you,” I finished the Destroyer’s quote easily as I could breath.

“Violence begets violence,” a white haired Cerean growled as he edged forward in his seat.

“Peace, Master,” I said, loving the way I was able to tell a fucking Jedi to be calm. “I did not come here to start a fight. Me and my crew were taking a shadow guard over Governor Vizsla, knowing the Duchess we knew that the Pacifistic Bitch wouldn’t even send paper to guard the Governor.”

“Yet a guard consists of ten Mandalorian shock troopers?” the first man asked.

“No, a guard requires two,” I said with a smirk under my helmet, “but my team are the best of the best, nothing less, master…?” I trailed off.

“Mace Windu, Master of the Jedi Order,” the man said as he sat further forward in his chair. “And you seem to carry a Jedi’s weapon.” My smirk immediately fell.

“No, I carry a lightsaber. One I built myself.”

“Impossible!” a Tholothian female cried from behind me. I didn’t even turn around as I looked at the unknown alien, the Cerean, and the human in front of me. “Only Jedi can create lightsabers!”

“Considering I am not, nor ever will be, part of your order, I believe that information is false. Though,” I tapped my visor slowly as I tried to make it look like I was deep in thought, “wasn’t it the Sith who actually made the first lightsabers?” the Council chamber grew deathly silent as I made that proclamation. 

“Told you this information, who did?” the little green man asked as seriously as I think he could be.

“An old friend,” I snarked, “now, if you’ll excuse me, I still have a governor to protect. But we did bring a kid with us, should I take him back to the brig and back to his home planet?”

“Take him as a ward, the Council will,” the little green alien said. “If strong in the Force, he is, a youngling he will become. The Council agreed, we are?”

**“Aye,”** eleven voices said in unison. 

“Settled, it is,” the little Jedi said with a smirk. I was tempted to shake my head but the doors were thrown open to reveal the Heavies escorting the little Shit himself.

“Congrats kid,” I said toward him as I joined my Heavies, stepping behind the Padawan and taking off his collar as the lead heavy uncollared Anakin, “you’re one of them now.” Obi-Wan gasped and fell to his knees as his connection to the Force nearly overwhelmed him by it’s sheer intensity. That usually happened with these things, guess Anakin was an anomaly.

“What will happen to my mother?” Anakin asked quietly.

“She’ll stay aboard the Fist,” I said. “The Governor has taken a liking to her, he has offered her a position on his staff doing what she loves.”

“Good,” Anakin said quietly.

“Well, I for one would like to know what that was you had around his and Padawan Kenobi’s necks and why it made Padawan Kenobi drop like a sack of Alderaanian Potatoes?” The Master of the Order snapped as he glared at me, I clipped the collars to my belt and folded my arms over my chest as the Heavies took a half step to stand in front of me.

“Something I found on Lwhekk,” I said, almost half grinning under my helmet knowing damn well that the Council was going to send an expeditionary force out to see if they could find more. I originally found one of the collars on Korriban and stumbled on another - quite by accident - on Dagobah buried in a swamp. They’re incredibly rare, so much so that the few Sith Holocrons I have just looked at them and said “what the hell are those?” but chalked it up to one of two people: Darth Muun or Exar Kun.

“Turn them over as property of the Jedi, you will,” the little green man snapped. I just grinned darkly, I could tell that Qui Gon was getting nervous over where this was potentially headed but Obi-Wan was quivering with excitement.

“And what will you do if I don’t?” I asked sarcastically.

“Hold you in contempt of the council, we will.”

“No, you won’t.” I snapped. “I plan on walking out of here as easily as I walked in. Oh, and I won’t die as easily as the last Mandalorian that fell to the Shadows,” I said offhandedly but watched as the Grandmaster and Master of the Order turned sheet white (which was a rather impressive feat for  _ both  _ of them), obviously knowing what I meant.

“Qui Gon,” I said, turning to face him, “if you ever decide to leave this hellhole, the  _ Nighthawk  _ will be in the same place until Nightfall. We’ll stay there long enough to make sure you’re coming aboard. Be well.” The Master nodded back and held up his hand, I clasped his arm squeezed, palming the microphone that I now knew that he knew about. “Move out,” I said to the Heavies, “oh, and someone might want to open a window in the hall.” I threw over my shoulder. I heard a  _ beep  _ and knew one of the two high masters had hit a button. The three of us stepped into the hallway only for me to catch three consecutive punches to the shoulder from Hotshot, Cap, and LT.

_ “What were you thinking!?”  _ LT hissed as I stepped to the precipice of the open window.

_ “They could have killed you!”  _ Cap snapped.

_ “I just wanted to punch you,”  _ Hotshot admitted and I could sense her shiteating grin under her helmet.

_ “I had it under control. Come on, we have a governor to protect,”  _ I said as I stepped off the ledge and activated my bootjets to simply hover on the outside of the ledge, “Coming?”

The three women shook their heads as the men stayed mercifully silent. The three took the lead as Oak and Golem flew beside me, the Heavies covering our backs as we engaged Jetpacks and Bootjets to make our way to the Senate building.

“Do you have a fucking Death Wish,” Golem muttered as we wove in between traffic.

“They wouldn’t have killed me,” I said confidently as I watched the small monitor I had for Phantom’s read out and was startled to see Sabe - in her Queen’s disguise - talking to the Chancellor but I couldn’t hear a word being said. I dialed up the intensity of the feed and caught just a little of the conversation before it suddenly focused with crystal clarity.  _ ‘Ancestors bless you, Julius,’  _ I thought as I finally heard the Senator speak.

**“...the Republic is not what it once was,”** he said, almost sadly but kept up. **“The Senate is full of greedy, squabbling delegates. There is no interest in the common good. I must be frank, Your Majesty, there is little chance the Senate will act on the invasion.”**

**“Chancellor Valorum seems to think there is hope.”** Sabe replied almost disinterested in what Palpatine was saying.

**“If I may say so, Your Majesty, the Chancellor has little real power... he is mired by baseless accusations of corruption. The bureaucrats are in charge now,”** the Senator said and I almost fell out of the sky at the ridiculous claim considering he  _ was  _ one of those so called bureaucrats.

**“What options have we?”** Sabe asked.

“Good girl,” I whispered as I rolled under a Speeder and shot forward even faster.

**“Our best choice would be to push for the election of a stronger Supreme Chancellor. One who will take control of the bureaucrats, and give us justice. You could call for a vote of no confidence in Chancellor Valorum,”** I felt myself growl at the simple suggestion.

“Padme, if you can hear me, tap your thigh three times,” I saw her eyebrow raise slightly but she did as I asked. “Good. Don’t listen to Palpatine, a vote of no Confidence in Valorum will do you no good. A transition of power between Senators would take at least two weeks, we have a strong position to take out the Federation in  _ three days.  _ That’s only because the trip to Naboo will take three days, Palpatine is trying to use you to become Chancellor.” I saw her eyes widen and realized I had missed part of Sabe’s conversation.

**“... longer to decide things than the Senate. Our people are dying, Senator... We must do something quickly to stop the Federation.”** Sabe said confidently.

**“To be realistic, Your Majesty, I think we're going to have to accept Federation control for the time being,”** the old bastard said like any sympathetic old man but he was a career politician, and there was the fact I wasn’t unconvinced he was a Sith.

**“That is something I cannot do,”** Sabe said heatedly as she turned and left the Senator’s office. The next part was most interesting though. Palpatine stood up and smiled radiantly.

“Yes… Everything is coming together,” he muttered before he too left the room.

“What the hell was that about?” Oak said through the comms.

“It appears that the dear Senator is more than he appears,” Hotshot replied.

“But is the senile politician an act or not? If it is then what could he be playing at?” Golem asked the group, “of course, you all know my position on Politicians so if I get to kill him I’m happy.”

“Sith or Senator, chuck ‘em in the grater,” I said dryly. “We all know, Golem.”

“Come on! It’s a good quote!” He said as we closed in on the Nubian Embassy.

**XXX**

**With Qui Gon…**

**Jedi Temple…**

“Padawan Kenobi,” Master Yoda said quietly after I finished my report. “Most disappointing, this news is. Stronger than your flesh, we expected you to be… Though made a connection with this woman, a boon it may be.” I felt my stomach twist slightly. Obi-Wan, advanced as he may be, isn’t ready for the trials yet. He proved that on Naboo.

“You want him to face the Trials, Master Yoda?” Master Windu asked calmly as he could be as he sat back in his chair, still visibly on edge.

“The trial of Skill, on Mandalore he passed. Saving the Duchess from Warriors of such caliber, a small feat it is not.”

“The trial of Spirit, he has also passed,” Master Ti said quietly. “Being separated from the force so violently… It is not a fate I would wish on my worst enemy.”

“Then we are agreed that to pass his trials, Padawan Kenobi needs only pass the Trial of Insight, Courage, and Flesh?” Mace asked the room to a chorus of ayes and one nay. “The vote is ten to one, the vote passes.” He said, eyeing Master Koon - the only one not in favor of the idea.

“I protest this, the boy should pass the trials as they have been done for a thousand years and ten thousand before,” Master Koon snapped and I was in full agreement.

“Times are changing, Master Koon…” Master Windu growled. “A Mandalorian in the Jedi Temple, nay… A Mandalorian  _ warrior  _ in the High Council’s chambers?” he asked incredulously. “And under terms of peace? That has never happened, my fellow masters. We need as many knights who know them if we are to be ready if there are more than ten of these Shocktroopers. It is troubling to me that there are Mandalorians who still follow the old ways, though we should have known that ten thousand years of tradition does not fall easily. Padawan Kenobi knows the new Mandalore, intimately I might add.” I didn’t have to look at my Padawan to know his face was flushing furiously while Anakin looked incredibly confused. “And the code does not forbid a different interpretation of the Trials. The vote has already been taken, Padawan Kenobi will be allowed to go forward in the trials by this method.”

“Information on this… Trident, we need… To Mandalore, you will go. Face the Duchess once again, you shall. On this information, the very Jedi Order may depend,” Yoda said and I couldn’t believe my ears as I stared at the old master dumbfoundedly.

“Masters, surely you cannot be suggest-”

“We suggest that Padawan Kenobi uses this opportunity as his Trial of the Flesh,” Master Windu said, cutting me off mid sentence. “If he passes, he will be one step closer to becoming a Jedi Knight.”

“And what of the boy?” I asked quietly, disgusted at what he just suggested but unable to go against the will of the Council.

“As a youngling, he shall be taken. Trained until of Padawan age, he shall be. Of your concern? It is not. Off with you,” Yoda said waving his hand, “much to decide we have. Your padawan and the youngling, stay they will. To Mandalore, Kenobi will go. Alone. It is decided.”

I ground my teeth but nodded and bowed anyway. “Yes, Master Yoda. I will be in my apartments. Good day.” I snapped off as I turned around and headed for the Turbolifts. As always, my path took me past both the Order’s Meditation chambers and the Room of a Thousand Fountains - ridiculous wastes of resources they might have been but they were as old as the temple itself.

“My old Padawan,” a voice called from behind me. I didn’t even have to turn around.

“Master,” I said as I turned around to face him, “it has been quite some time.”

“Indeed, Padawan. You are troubled.” Dooku, the Count of Serenno said with a frown on his lips. “What has happened?”

“My own Padawan and the Council, Master,” I said gravely, turning to the meditation room.

“Kenobi? I thought he was a smart lad, a bit headstrong - aye - but a good choice. What has he done?” I glanced up at my old master.

“He has lain with a woman,’’ I said. The old man raised an eyebrow.

“Indeed? But has he broken the code?” 

“He is twenty-five, master, and a Jedi to boot. He has fallen to his feelings, I could sense it when the truth of the matter was revealed,” I said sadly. “The council is sending him to Mandalore to gather information, they have declared that this shall be his Test of the Flesh and that his Trials of Skill and Spirit have already been completed. I had no say in the matter, Master.”

“This is troubling… Though I have heard whispers that you had brought Mandalorian crusaders into this temple, which is quite out of character for you - my old padawan.”

“They saved the Queen’s life and I have come to respect Trident, their leader, on a professional level at the very least,” I said thoughtfully. “Indeed, he has even offered me a position aboard his ship should I want it.”

“Do you?”


End file.
